The Brothers Winchester Code
by roswellwbfan
Summary: Eventual Wincest of the DeanSam variety. Slash. Spoilers through 02x10, Hunted. After the events of Hunted Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean.
1. One of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (01/19)  
**Series:** _The Brothers Winchester Code_  
**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Summary: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece. Summary: After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But maybe he should have kept his mouth shut, since what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Chapter One

"Dean! I got it!"

Dean shot up and determined there was no danger before he blinked groggily and fell back onto his pillow.

"You got what? An STD? That might be too much information, especially before coffee," he retorted, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Ha ha, out of the two of us I think I'd place my money on the man-whore to come down with a ravaging case of syphilis, bro," Sam retorted with a grin which faded as he looked away.

"So whatcha got, Sam?" Dean asked, figuring his brother was waiting for Dean to demonstrate complete awareness. When Sam didn't answer right away Dean cocked his head and when he saw the rigid nature of Sam's posture he sat up. "Sam, what is it?"

"It's just; I know what to say now. I had something I wanted to say right then but I thought you wouldn't hear me. You'd just think I was giving you a knee-jerk response."

Maybe he wasn't as awake as he thought, Dean wondered as he let Sam's words tumble in his brain.

"What? Say when?"

Dean watched Sam steel himself and he became even more concerned.

"When you asked me what I could say that would make it all right," Sam's voice was quiet but firm. His words served to practically catapult Dean out of bed.

"No. _Hell no._ We are not talking about this," Dean growled as he stalked over to his bag and began rummaging for clean clothes.

"Yes we are, Dean. We need to, _I_ need to," Sam stated, his voice having risen only slightly.

"Well tough," Dean announced as he pulled his shirt on. Sam flopped back on the bed and slammed his fists down.

"I'm sick of having this stuff in my head! If I don't get it out, it's going to kill me or worse, _you_. And then where will I be?"

Dean's face softened marginally.

"Refraining from going all touchy-feely on me will not get you killed, Sam," Dean told him, but Sam was already shaking his head.

"It already has almost gotten _you_ killed, Dean," he responded, "Or have you conveniently forgotten Dr. Ellicott?"

Dean tensed as he always did whenever he heard the name. Not that it was often, because he had expressly forbidden Sam from ever bringing up that situation again. Which Sam had protested against but had fallen into line on…until now. Dean should have known that Sam was just biding his time until he could hit him with it again.

"And I want to invoke The Brothers Winchester Code," Sam added, his features schooled into a steely mask.

Dean whipped around in shock.

_The Brothers Winchester Code._ God, how long had it been since they'd used it? Dean thought for only a moment before he realized the last time they had was when Sam started talking about Stanford.

His mouth twitched slightly as he recalled how The Code came into existence. Even though the subject matter was a bit painful, the memory itself was a good one.

_Sam waddled into their bedroom and sat on the side of the bed, absently picking at the covers. Dean looked up from the trigonometry book he was reading and frowned slightly. Whenever Sammy was acting like this, this patient waiting-for-Dean's-attention thing he sometimes did, it usually meant he had something he wanted to say that he was afraid was going to make Dean mad. However, it was a rare thing that Sammy was willing to sit quietly without something besides his brain to occupy him so Dean took advantage of the fact and got through the required reading before setting the book aside._

"_What's up, Sammy?" he asked, and Sam shrugged a shoulder._

_This must be a doozy, Dean thought to himself. He rarely had to pry with Sam. Usually he was more than happy to talk to Dean. In truth most of the prying came from Sammy's end when he wanted Dean to talk to him._

"_Something bothering you, kiddo?"_

_Again with the shrug._ _Dean decided to cut to the chase._

"_Do you have something you want to talk to me about?"_

_Sam nodded but refused to meet Dean's eyes._

"_So why aren't you talking?" Dean asked, careful to keep any annoyance out of his voice._

"_You're gonna be mad at me, or make fun of me," Sam confessed._

"_No, I won't," Dean replied automatically and was rewarded with Sammy finally looking at him. Of course it was to roll his eyes but he would still consider it a step forward._

"_Right. 'Cause you never make fun of me for what I say, or the words I use, or the sound of my voice, or…" Sam trailed off and looked at Dean, a glance that said 'Need I go on?' as eloquently as words._

_And really, Sam did have a point._

"_Well…what if I promise not to make fun of you?" Dean asked and Sam considered it for a moment._

"_Will you promise not to get mad, either?" he requested and Dean nodded and grinned at Sam._

"_Any more rules you want to make up before you tell me whatever it is you need to say?" he teased and Sam looked thoughtful before he blushed and gave Dean a shy smile._

"_Can we?" he questioned and Dean smiled._

"_Make more rules up? What for?"_

_Sam shrugged and looked away._

"_I dunno. I just thought it could be, I don't know, like a thing between us," he murmured and Dean laughed._

"_What kind of thing? Like a secret?"_

_Sam shook his head._

"_No, but that's a good rule. More like a set of rules or something that we could use when we want to talk about something really important with the other person," he finished and then lifted his shoulders again. Dean pondered it for a moment._

"_Okay, we can do that."_

_Sam's face lit up._

"_Really?"_

"_Sure, Sammy._ _And we'll call it…" he trailed off and thought about a good name. He smiled at Sam when it hit him. "We'll call it The Brothers Winchester Code."_

_Sam nodded frantically, almost bouncing on the bed._

"_That's a good name, Dean."_

"_Alright so I guess rule one of the code is that no one gets made fun of for what they say, right?"_

"_And rule two is that no one gets mad at the other person," Sam continued._

"_Rule three is that whatever is said stays a secret between us, unless it is something that could hurt you," Dean said and held up a hand when Sam protested. "Sorry Sammy but that's a given. If you tell me something that will hurt you if I keep it a secret then I'm not going to follow that rule."_

_Sam frowned but nodded._

"_Okay but if you break one of the rules you have to be punished," Sam said and he thought for a minute, ignoring the teasing smile on Dean's face. "Rule four is that when you take the oath you have to say what your punishment will be right away, so that you can't say later that you didn't know what would happen."_

"_Take the oath?" Dean teased. Sam nodded seriously._

"_Of course, Dean._ _We have to take an oath before we begin to use The Code or else it's not serious."_

"_All right, Sammy. What else?"_

_Sam concentrated for a good minute before looking up at Dean hesitatingly. Dean quirked a brow._

"_What is it, Sammy?"_

"_It's just, I want to make a rule about no interruptions but it sounds mean."_

_Dean smiled at his brother's attempt to spare his feelings._

"_Maybe we can make a rule that limits how much the other person can say or something."_

_Sam looked up at his brother as if Dean were the smartest person in the world._

"_How about the interruptions can only be five words or less?"_

"_Only five words?" Dean asked and Sam grinned._

"_You don't talk as much as I do, Dean, so I figure you won't really need a lot of words."_

_Dean shook his head and then a sobering thought hit him. They were talking about this, making up these rules, because Sam wanted to talk about something serious. And he was afraid Dean would get mad at him or make fun of him. He decided they needed another rule to make sure that Dean didn't inadvertently do either one._

"_I've got a rule, Sammy, and it's important. Rule—what number is it?"_

"_Six," Sam provided._

"_Rule six is that once the discussion is done no one can talk about it for 48 hours."_

_Sam frowned at him._

"_Why do we need that rule?"_

"_If it's something really serious, something that might upset the other person, then I think it's important that person be given time to think about what was said, so they don't get angry."_

_Sam nodded._

"_Okay, I think that's enough rules, Sammy. What about you?"_

"_I'm ready, Dean."_

"_So how do you want to take the oath?"_

_Sam considered it. Then he stood up and faced Dean._

"_I, Samuel Winchester, do solemnly swear to abide by The Brothers Winchester Code, and I promise to give Dean first shower for a month should I fail to live up to the terms."_

_Dean grinned._

"_Is it wrong that I want you to break The Code?"_

_Sam rolled his eyes but smiled. Dean stood up and faced him._

"_I, Dean Winchester, do solemnly swear to abide by The Brothers Winchester Code, and I promise to give Sam the last cookie for a month should I fail to live up to the terms."_

_Sam smiled at him and stuck out his right hand, which Dean grasped. Then he stuck out his left hand and Dean laughed._

"_A simple handshake not enough for you, Sammy?"_

_Sam merely shook his head and Dean grasped the proffered hand. Then Sam shook their joined hands three times before he let go and sat down. Dean sat next to him and waited._

"_I want you to tell me what happened to Mom during the fire," Sam whispered and Dean's heart clenched._

End of Chapter One


	2. Two of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (02/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Summary: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But maybe he should have kept his mouth shut, since what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Author Notes: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed, especially Mia, whose review I could reply to online.

* * *

Chapter Two

"Look, I know that you hate sharing and fine, whatever," Sam's voice interrupted and brought him back to the present. "But it's going to make me a stronger fighter if I don't have to worry what some demon's gonna pull out of my head to try and use against you. I'm sick of going up against things and having them say shit they have no business knowing. And I may not be able to stop them from doing it, but at least I can know that nothing they say is going to be something I'll have wished I had been the one to tell you."

The pain on Sam's face was the only thing that prevented Dean from interrupting.

"The phantom traveler started that lesson but Ellicott rammed it home for me, Dean. I knew that I should have forced the issue earlier. That I should have told you all sorts of shit before then."

And man, no one could do guilt like his Sammy. Dean sighed, preparing himself to re-open the wounds that had never fully healed since their encounter with the doctor.

"And not just because I want to keep you safe, which I do, but because I want you to know stuff about me. I miss that about us."

Sam's voice, which had started out strong and almost defiant, had faded into a pained whisper with his last words. To his horror Dean felt tears welling in his eyes. He hadn't expected that from Sam. Hell…_Dean_ was the one who said he wanted to be a family, not Sam. It was enough to ensure Dean's silence while Sam continued to speak.

"So will you invoke The Brothers Winchester Code with me?" he asked, and Dean didn't hesitate to nod. He stood up and faced Sam, who mirrored his position. They clasped their right hands, then their left.

"I, Dean Winchester, do solemnly swear to abide by The Brothers Winchester Code, and I promise to…" he faltered for a minute as he contemplated his punishment, should he break The Code. "I promise to give Sam control of the radio for a week should I fail to live up to the terms."

Sam nodded and grinned slightly.

"I, Samuel Winchester, do solemnly swear to abide by The Brothers Winchester Code, and I promise to let Dean choose where we eat for a week should I fail to live up to the terms."

Dean thought about the terms of The Code, bringing them back from his memory.

1) No one was allowed to make fun of the other for what they said.

2) No one could get mad at the other for what they said.

3) Anything they said was a secret between them.

4) When the oath is taken punishments must be announced.

5) The person who initiated The Brothers Winchester Code could feel free to talk as much as he wanted. The respondent could only interrupt with five words at a time.

6) Once the discussion was finished they had to wait 48 hours before bringing it up again.

Sam let go of Dean's hands and began to pace the room and Dean settled himself back on the bed.

"Okay, there are so many things I want to say, I don't know where to begin. But I guess that Jess is a good place to start. What that demon said on the plane…thinking about marrying her? I went into one store and looked at rings. And you know what? I imagined that you were with me, and I could practically hear the smart ass things you would have said. I want you to know, Dean, I never would have proposed to Jess without telling you first."

And Dean really wished he had a nice smart-assed thing to say right about then because the earnest look on Sam's face was making him feel all tight inside and he hated it.

"Really?" He asked and then cursed himself ten thousand kinds of a fool because _god_, could he sound any more insecure? But Sam was nodding so furiously that Dean was afraid his neck might snap.

"Yes! Oh man, Dean, you have no idea how much it sucked to be without you, you really don't. I never would have made such a big step without telling you, no matter how upset I was with you. Never. Ever. No matter what."

Dean nodded and looked down at his hands, words eluding him. He had missed Sam with an ache that grew every day until he saw his brother again. But then the ache had been replaced by a melancholy that never quite went away when he realized that Sam had crafted an entire life that left no room for missing a brother. Hell, for all Dean knew Sam hadn't even bothered to tell anyone outside of Jess that Dean existed. Hearing Sam's words now provided a balm to his wounded soul that he hadn't been aware he'd been craving.

Sam meanwhile was gearing himself up to another confession, one he wasn't sure Dean would like. He went over to the dresser and addressed his own reflection in the mirror above it, not wanting to meet Dean's eyes.

"Do you know why I went to Stanford? Because I knew you could do this on your own. I knew you could do it better, if you didn't have to always worry about me. But me? I can't do this without you, Dean. I never have been able to, never will. So I left. Before I could get talked into doing this on my own. Before I could disappoint you when you realized I couldn't do this without you."

Dean didn't even hesitate in his reply.

"You've never disappointed me, Sammy."

Sam had to pause and take a breath at that statement because while he'd always known that Dean placed Sam's safety above and beyond his own he couldn't help but feel that so often he'd let Dean down. He was always crushed by that feeling, more than by any other, and the swiftness and surety of Dean's response went a long way to lift the weight he'd carried that told him he wasn't worth Dean's protection…or love.

Sam nodded to himself, allowing the emotions he was feeling to run their course. Once he was back on even ground he gave Dean a small smile.

"Why do you think I went with you when you showed up at Stanford? Not because I was worried about Dad, god knows he'd gotten himself in and out of enough jams that I didn't really worry, at least not at first. I came because of _you_, Dean. Because _you_ came and asked me to go and god help me, I missed you. I missed you so much when I was gone. And when I saw you there it hit me again, like it hadn't in years, and I would've gone _anywhere_ with you."

Dean shook his head as the emotions threatened to swallow him whole. Trust Sammy to abuse The Brothers Winchester Code just so he could throw them into his own Lifetime movie. He consoled himself with the knowledge that as soon as they were done talking he had 48 hours to pretend this never happened, if it came to that.

"You know why Dad didn't show up when you'd been electrocuted? It's the same reason he made a deal with the Demon. It's because he knew we were together. And he knew that no one on this earth would fight harder for you than me, and he left us here because he knew that when push comes to shove no one loves me, protects me, and—" he broke off, choking up a bit.

"Believes in you," Dean added in a near-whisper. Sam shook his head 'yes' as he struggled to get himself back under control.

"Like you, Dean. No one. And I know what you're thinking but not even her. I never told Jess about any of the hunts. I always held my breath around her, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I started dreaming of her death I always thought it was just my paranoia, just my subconscious worrying that she was going to leave me. And she would have left me, Dean. If she'd have known…"

"You don't know that, Sammy," Dean insisted, pained as always at hearing Sam's tone nearly drowning in guilt and wanting nothing more than to stop it and save him somehow.

"Yes, I do. I know because I'd brought it up before. Never anything serious or telling, but I felt her out on the whole subject and she wouldn't have been okay. Not in a million years."

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered.

And he was. He'd wanted his brother's dream of the all-American life to work out.

"I am too. Sorry that I didn't protect Jess, sorry that it's my fault mom and dad are dead and you almost were more times than ever would have happened had I died that night in the fire. Sorry that the demon wants to use me in some unholy war against you. Sorry that I've always been a burden to you."

"You're not a burden, dumbass."

But Sam shook his head, unwilling to accept what Dean was saying as truth.

"Of course I am, Dean, but—" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean.

"No one's death's on you," he told him with a steely glare, hands on his hips.

Sam glanced away.

"I wish I could believe that Dean, I really do," he whispered, and Dean let him stay inside his head for a moment. "But part of me thinks it would have made so many lives easier if I were dead."

Dean stomped over and grabbed Sam's head in his hands.

"Never say that again, Sammy."

Sam's gaze snapped to Dean. Sam only ever heard that tone on a few occasions, and it made him shiver each time and vow to himself that he would do whatever it took to keep Dean from ever sounding like that again. Dean was _pissed_, and he kept his gaze locked on Sam's until Sam nodded, once. Dean let go and went back to his bed, perching on the edge and looking up at the ceiling for a long time.

"Should totally kick your ass," he finally muttered and Sam breathed a little easier. If Dean was back to issuing threats of bodily harm then he was past the worst of his anger.

"Save it for someone you can beat, like the demon, Dean," Sam teased, although his voice wasn't as strong as he'd like. After a moment there was a snort from the other side of the room.

"Oh there will be pain," Dean assured him as he plunked backwards onto the bed and Sam wasn't sure if Dean was agreeing with him or making promises to beat him up later, but decided not to press his luck by asking.

"Is it okay if I keep going?" Sam asked quietly and Dean's head came up to fix Sam with a curious look.

By rights since Sam had invoked The Code he could talk as long as he wanted, and only he could end the discussion. Dean took in Sam's body language and realized that Sam had picked up on how pissed Dean was and was doing his best to make sure it was kept at bay. Apparently he had freaked Sam out enough to make him second-guess whether or not Dean would continue to follow The Code. The knowledge was enough to make Dean calm down that much more.

"Rock on, Sam-I-Am," he quipped and was rewarded with a small grin.

"So we can't run away and you can't protect me from it. But you can help me fight it. You're the only one who can, the only one I trust enough to put everything into saving me."

"You know I will, Sam."

Sam nodded.

"It may not make what Dad did all right, but there it is."

* * *

End of Chapter Two 


	3. Three of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (03/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Summary: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But maybe he should have kept his mouth shut, since what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

AN: Thanks to everyone who's been reading, I appreciate it. And for the reviewers I could not reply to online:

Mia: I really appreciated your review, and I hope to keep you interested in the story for the remaining chapters!!!

Timme: Thank you very much for taking the time to review!

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

Dean nodded to show he had heard Sam but he wasn't about to pretend that he was totally okay with Sam's reasoning, although he couldn't deny that on some level at least it made sense. And boy that was a bitter pill to swallow…acknowledging that maybe his Dad had died, had sacrificed himself, actually, because he recognized that Dean was willing to go farther for Sam than he himself was.

"This whole thing made me realize something else, too."

"What's that, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head.

"When we kill the demon, are you going to keep hunting?"

Dean huffed a breath and looked at his hands. Just when he thought it was over, that he could begin to process what Sam had already weighed him down with, he goes and chooses _now_ to pick this fight? The one they'd already had, that ended with Sam telling Dean he'd have to let him go.

Why would he do that? Hell, why did Sam say or do half the stuff he did? Dean realized that pondering the nature of his brother's brain was more likely than not giving Sam the impression that Dean was actually pondering the answer as if it weren't an almost inborn certainty at this point. He prepared to let the fight begin.

"Yes," he answered, barely refraining from adding that he'd already told Sam as much. No need to start yelling before he had to.

He took a deep breath and waited for Sam's explosion, for the assurances that Dean didn't need to keep fighting, that what Dean wanted he could have once the fight was over.

"Okay."

His mind knew it was irrational yet Dean couldn't help the slight sense of disappointment that welled through him with Sam's soft spoken reply. He'd been geared up for a fight and thus when he was deprived his body demonstrated annoyance at the lack of follow through. He looked up at Sam in confusion but Sam was pacing as he continued to talk. Dean assumed he was included in the conversation although Sam wasn't looking at him.

"So we need to find a place that's close, but not too close. One where we could get help from other hunters if we needed it but far enough away that we definitely have to think before asking for it. Also, I'd like it to be near enough to a school that I could be on campus for classes so I wouldn't always have to rely on the laptop. I think we could do one full-time semester a year—" he broke off and looked at Dean who just stared at him as if unaware what language Sam was using. Sam rolled his eyes and kept talking.

"But if you think you'll get too twitchy to stay in one place for that long then I guess I could go part time for a semester, although it'd obviously take me that much longer to finish. So where could that be?"

He continued to pace in silence as he thought and after a few rounds Dean finally had to speak.

"The fuck you talking about?"

Sam stopped pacing and looked at Dean in surprise.

"I'm talking about after we kill the demon."

Dean gave him a "duh" look.

"Thanks, Einstein, I got that."

Sam's stance became determined.

"I can't—I _won't_ become someone who forgets why we do this. And I've been thinking and I have a theory," he paused and looked at Dean who nodded, assuming Sam wanted to make sure he was listening. Sam took a breath and resumed pacing.

"I think the demon doesn't want us to have a home, because home means something worth fighting for. A memory can only take you so far, but if you have something like home—just as intangible but more real—then you know that you're fighting for your home and the homes of everyone else who might get hurt because of the monsters. I'm willing to bet you fight harder with something like that fueling you instead of revenge, which burns so bright and hot for a while that you can't think of anything else until it burns away and you realize that revenge just won't taste good."

He ceased his movements and peered at Dean.

"What do you think?" he asked, biting his nail.

Dean thought about what Sam had said, and it made sense. The demon had taken away the only home both of them had ever known. Dean's when their mother died and then Sam's when Jess died.

So while it made sense that Sam would be longing for something like that again—or rather still—Dean couldn't help but wish that he figured a bit more prominently in those plans. Well he would take what he could get, he decided with a shrug. Sam wasn't saying they'd always be together but he wasn't abandoning him completely.

"It sounds reasonable to me," he informed Sam and then let his thoughts carry him away for a moment as Sam nodded and grinned in what apparently was relief, although Dean wasn't quite sure why. He realized he still was pretty unclear about what Sam was saying so he decided to just straight up ask for a clarification, something he rarely did while Sam was out of hitting range.

"So you're talking about going back to school and living with someone like Sara and helping me hunt sometimes?"

Sam shook his head and chuckled.

"I'm talking about going back to school and living with _you_ and helping you hunt _all_ the times you do," he told him with a grin.

Dean couldn't speak. It didn't seem possible. Dean often fantasized about living with Sam, figured there was really no one else he wanted to live with, or could live with, actually. He stared at Sam as if he had just uttered the most ridiculous thing in the world instead of having told Dean in essence he was granting one of his most favorite wishes. Sam smiled at the look on Dean's face and adopted a cocky pose.

"Unless you fight when I'm in the middle of class or something and you swore you wouldn't but you just couldn't help yourself and then you call me and I get pissed but I go anyway just so when we've killed whatever just couldn't wait I can kick your ass."

Refusing to even deign the threat of an ass-kicking with a comment Dean had to stomp hard on the surge of hope and just pure happiness that had bubbled up at the words Sam had spoken. There was no way he was reading this right.

"What happened to 'let me go, Dean. I have to find my own way?'" he asked and _boy_ he didn't think he could sound any bitterer. Sam's eyes widened in recognition of that bitterness but he didn't call him on it.

"You're right, Dean. I did say that, and it's still true except that I now know what I didn't say then but should have. I thought you realized that I didn't want to go back to the way things were because I lost you, Dean. I never want to go back to a time when that was possible. Ever. Again."

When Dean just stared at him, eyes wide, Sam realized he still needed to hear more.

"And as far as my own way, well, like you keep telling me, I'm a selfish bastard. Probably always will be, so get used to it. But I can promise you that my selfishness is tempered by having the vision of you in a hospital bed near death and willing to go. My way will always be the one that keeps you as safe as you'll let me. My way will always include you."

"What about Sara?" Dean couldn't help but ask. Part of his brain was screaming at him to shut up, to just accept these words as true. But the rest of him was too jaded and insisted on pushing, on getting Sam to reveal the catch Dean knew must be present.

"What about her?" Sam asked.

"Don't you want her; want that whole thing she represents?" When Sam's face showed confusion Dean continued. "That whole concept of home, Sam. Don't you want the wife or husband and the kids and the dog?"

Dean grinned for a moment, the look in his eyes telling Sam he was about to say something Sam would want to hit him for.

"And with Sara and Gordon there's the whole added bonus of them knowing about the life."

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before speaking.

"I don't want her, Dean. I used to want that life, more than anything, but it's not what's important anymore."

He paused and Dean was tempted to say something, anything, but before he could find the words Sam had begun to speak again, his words preceded by a rueful sigh.

"I should have explained it better to Dad, and to you. It's not that I wanted a normal life. Because really, what is normal? It depends on your perspective. So that wasn't the right word to use. I wanted a life I fit in with. I never felt like I fit with you and Dad."

Dean opened his mouth but again Sam beat him to it.

"And yeah, Sara may have known that the life existed but she doesn't know the life. No one we meet except a fellow hunter who's been at it as long as we have will ever know the life. She had a brush with the life, something to get over, move past. I tried to get over it and I never could, even before Jess died."

"You said you never felt like you fit in at Stanford," Dean offered hesitantly. He had thought at the time that Sam had been saying it to placate Dean but maybe he had been telling the truth.

Sam shook his head, a sad smile barley curling his lips.

"After the life we lived, is it really that much of a surprise? I just got better at pretending, that's all. I mean, I'd see people doing the stupidest things—taking drinks from strangers, walking alone at night—and I'd think 'Don't you know what's out there?' and then I'd realize no, they don't. And damn were they happy."

"You weren't happy?" Dean asked, unsure whether or not he actually wanted to hear the answer. After all, he had consoled himself after Sam's departure by telling himself that Sam was happy. But if he found out now that Sam had been miserable then he wasn't sure he could deal with that.

"I was happy," Sam shrugged, "as happy as I could be, anyway. And Jess helped. Having Jess there helped."

He fell silent for a moment but this time Dean wasn't tempted to say anything to fill it in. When Sam started to speak again his voice had fallen hesitant.

"There's this weird thing that happens at college. When people first get there they talk about going home. Home for the weekend, home for the holidays. But starting in the second semester or so they start saying they're going to their folks' place and refer to college as home. It was an early sign that I'd never truly fit in. Because as far as what home means to me…" he broke off and had to look down at his feet for a long moment before he could continue. "…it's you, Dean. You're my home. _Anytime_ anyone asked me about home I thought of you. You're the most important person in the world to me."

For a moment it looked like Sam was about to burst into tears and Dean could only pray fervently that it wasn't the case, feeling suspiciously close himself. After a deep breath Sam shook his head and grinned at Dean.

"So will you lay off about Sara? I mean for one thing, I only kissed her because you were there. And Gordon? _Please,_ Dean. Just because we're both bisexual doesn't mean I share your horrible taste…He's way more YOUR type. You sure maybe you don't want to go break him out of jail, set up shop together?"

But as soon as he said it the color drained from Sam's face.

"Wait. I mean, do you want that? Maybe not Gordon but…Do you not want us to live together and stuff?"

Sam's reaction silenced Dean's doubts about whether or not Sam really wanted everything he'd been saying. No way would he have freaked if he was genuinely trying to offer Dean a way out. Dean didn't hesitate to assure him.

"Hell yes I want to live with you, Sam." And if he sounded a touch overenthusiastic he told himself it was because he was trying to make sure Sam knew he meant it.

Sam's smile brightened the room and made Dean feel as though he really were the superhero his little brother always thought he was.

"So you and me together until the end?" Sam half stated, half questioned.

Dean wanted to give a smart ass answer but found himself compelled to keep that smile on Sam's face just a bit longer, so he went chick flick.

"We live together, we hunt together, and god willing, we die together."

Sam ducked his head for a moment and when he raised his eyes to Dean's his smile had gotten impossibly bigger, and it served to make the tears in his eyes beautiful rather than tragic. Dean basked, knowing that he had made his brother as happy as he'd ever seen him, but before long his chest tightened and he knew that he was going to have to say something to deflect this sudden weight of emotions.

This time he felt okay with being a smart ass.

"So let me get this straight," he started and ticked the points off on his fingers, "You only kissed Sara because _I_ was watching? You're passing on Gordon," he paused, widening his eyes as if he found the idea preposterous then shook his head and grinned. "You and me forever. I dunno Sam…Are you going Brokeback on me?"

He meant it to be a joke and Sam rolled his eyes and started to respond as such but only got as far as looking back at Dean. Then his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open for a moment before his gaze turned piercing and more than a little considering.

"Sam?" Dean had to talk, had to know what it was that had put that look on Sam's face.

Sam was looking at him as if he had no idea who he was, but then he nodded slowly and answered.

"Maybe. I mean, I already love you more than anyone else. I guess it wouldn't be completely unheard of to fall in love with you somewhere down the line."

* * *

End of Chapter Three 


	4. Four of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (04/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Summary: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But maybe he should have kept his mouth shut, since what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

AN: Thanks to everyone who's been reading, I appreciate it.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Special Author's Note: To Mia, whom I could not reply to offline:

Happy New Year to you as well, and thanks for the well wishes. To answer your question I do have a livejournal, I don't update much and I do read actually have the first few chappies up at a comm but haven't gotten much response. I really appreciate how much thought you put into this review, and the fact that you enjoyed the chapter makes me happy. So thank you!

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

Dean opened his mouth to comment on the girlish nature of his brother when he realized that Sam was serious. Then he couldn't find the words. Any words, actually. And it looked like it was a contagious condition but Dean could read Sam's face perfectly well.

Sam was wearing that "oh shit" expression he wore when his mouth spoke without asking permission from his brain.

It was as if Sam was hearing his own voice for the first time and was surprised that something so monumentally stupid was the first thing he'd said.

It always struck Dean as comical, although the degrees to which he felt that touch of humor varied. Currently he wasn't feeling like laughing. At all.

But before Dean could try and raise his level of amusement to one that would allow him to tease his way out of the conversation Sam's brain apparently kicked in and he blinked hard and then almost rolled his eyes again but settled for looking away, suddenly glaringly uncomfortable.

Sam couldn't believe he'd actually said that. He'd actually opened his mouth and uttered those words. Told Dean there was a chance he would fall in love with him.

What the hell was wrong with him?

The next time Dean got irritated with him for speaking without thinking Sam would remember this moment and back down, knowing that even if Dean wasn't right at that moment, it did happen. Sometimes the link between brain and mouth broke and Sam ended up making an ass of himself.

"It's not like I just told you I'd had a sex dream about you, you know," Sam finally muttered when the silence became too thick. And what do you know? He'd made an ass out of himself again. Twice in as many minutes must be some kind of record.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Sam's brain hadn't kicked in _quite_ hard enough, 'cause that comment surely wasn't going to magically dissolve the tension. Not that Dean could think of one himself but he was fairly certain bringing sex into the discussion wouldn't help…and boy there was a first time for everything, really, since Dean never would have thought that sex would be a hindrance.

Apparently his features were telegraphing something that annoyed Sam because he gave an eye roll before huffing his breath out.

"Don't worry, Dean. Frankly, it's more than a little insulting that you think you'd ever have to be afraid."

_Afraid? Were they still talking about the sex dream?_ He decided to lead by example and actually think before speaking.

"What do you mean afraid?" he opted to ask.

Sam shrugged.

"If it ever happened like I'd be stupid enough to tell you I was in love with you."

On some level Dean recognized that his anger was unfounded, irrational even, but that didn't stop him from expressing it.

"What the fuck, Sam? You'd better tell me."

Sam blinked up at him in surprise but Dean continued ranting before Sam could even open his mouth.

"You're the one who went on and on about needing to lay our cards on the table so some demon doesn't use what's in our heads against us. But now you're telling me that you'd keep something like that—something really important—to yourself and wait until some telepathic monster sees it and decides to distract me from kicking its ass by announcing it?"

Dean glared at Sam, waiting for him to acknowledge the truth of his words so he was shocked when his brother nodded his head.

"Goddamnit Sam! Why would you even think of doing something so stupid?"

Sam hesitated for a moment before falling silent but in that instant Dean could see that he actually had an answer. Knowing that Sam was just hesitant to share made Dean calm down—marginally. He blew a breath out through his nose.

"Why, Sam? And don't tell me you don't know because I don't buy it."

Sam bowed his head and Dean prayed for patience but when Sam finally made eye contact his eyes were full of tears. Dean was by his side before he'd comprehended that he'd moved.

"If I told you you'd make me leave."

Dean couldn't have been more surprised if Sam had announced that he was the demon they'd been hunting all along.

"What?"

"You'd hate me. You wouldn't be able to look at me, and you would send me away."

Dean sighed in relief. _Was that all? _He rolled his eyes.

"Please, Sam. I didn't dump your ass after you shot me so I'm pretty sure you'd be safe."

But Sam didn't seem convinced as he stared at Dean, biting his lip as he searched his gaze. Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder.

"We're in this for the long haul, okay? Come what may, we can handle it together. I promise, Sammy."

Sam nodded and ducked his head again. It was pretty much ridiculous that hearing Dean promise him something still meant as much to him now as it did the first time he heard him say the words and yet there was no denying it.

But he decided that they could take a break from the mushy stuff for a while. Best to quit now—as it was Dean might possibly get an allergic reaction or something once he realized how much sharing and caring he'd done tonight.

And Sam knew just what the next topic was going to be.

"I'm looking forward to breaking out the Barry Manilow or possibly the soundtrack to Rent when we go to get food," Sam told him with a smile that was 100 percent gleefully evil little brother.

Dean knew that the comment was Sam's way of signaling that they were done with the heavy stuff and he was grateful. He tousled Sam's hair as he went to go find his wallet.

"Good one, Sam. Talk about things that just might get you thrown out of the car."

Sam accepted the affectionate touch without complaint, even though he'd have to re-comb his hair before they left. He delighted in being able to break the news to Dean.

"Sorry, Dean. I know you were hoping I didn't notice but last time I checked 'So you're talking about going back to school and living with someone like Sara and helping me hunt sometimes?' had a helluva lot more words than five," Sam stated with a chuckle.

Dean just looked at Sam in confusion. Why the hell was he counting words? And then he realized—he'd broken The Code. Shit. Now he had a full week of torture to endure. But as he looked at Sam's face, happy and carefree, he couldn't quite bring it in himself to protest too strongly.

He could, however, make sure he got the last word in and one-up Sam in smugness at the same time.

"So tell me about this sex dream you had about me," Dean said with a grin and ducked out of the way of Sam's punch.

* * *

End of Chapter Four

* * *


	5. Five of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (05/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Summary: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Author's Note: Thank you so very very much to all who continue to read this fic. I am grateful beyond words. To Mia: Again, your review left me with a smile on my face. And yeah, I thought it was about time that Sam looks like he has no control over that brain-mouth link instead of Dean. Thank you for taking the time to read and review, it's appreciated. And to timme: Your review made me laugh (that line about 'eew, incest, begone!') so thanks for that! I'm happy to have you following this!

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

There was an advantage to a big city, Dean mused as he waited at the bar for one of the bartenders to notice him. The bars were bigger which meant busier which in turn meant more women and men for Dean to peruse. Tonight that was very much the case and the hustle and bustle provided him with an added advantage—time to think away from Sam, who was saving Dean's seat for him in a booth back near the pool tables.

_Sam might fall in love with me._ It was a mantra that repeated itself over and over until it was so embedded in his brain that he only realized he was thinking about it when he had a moment to himself, like now. Dean had actually meant to push the issue with Sam earlier, wanting to get both of them past the weird feelings that had hovered between them since The Code was last invoked. But supernatural activity had kicked up since then and it was only now, a full three months later, that they finally had a chance to unwind after killing a succubus in the heart of downtown Columbus, Ohio.

Although weird feelings may not be the best way to describe it. Things hadn't really changed all that much for them since then. It was more that Dean was becoming twitchy at the thought that he didn't know how likely Sam was to fall in love with him, and he really wanted an answer.

He wanted an answer because he didn't know what it meant. What did it mean to fall in love? He'd thought he knew with Cassie but he got the feeling that he wouldn't have found it tolerable to leave either time if he was really in love with her. Wouldn't he have fought harder? Wouldn't he have wanted to give up everything to make her happy? Wouldn't she have wanted to give everything up to make him happy? Wouldn't they have accepted each other 100 percent?

So who could blame him for this unease, really, when the last person he'd thought might fall in love with him was Cassie? Look how that turned out. He was really not anxious to have anything like that happen with Sam, and the thought that it could made him nearly jump out of his skin in his desire to make sure it never came to pass.

He had no problem admitting to himself that Cassie had been a substitute for Sam, and after meeting her Sam had more than likely come to the same conclusion. Although there was the whole sex thing but he figured Sam chalked that up to Dean being, well...Dean.

And speaking of Dean being Dean a number of giggles reached his ears and he turned to investigate and saw what was obviously a bachelorette party at the bar next to him. The bride-to-be was well on her way to being hammered; Dean noticed with a grin and when both bartenders came down to handle the large party she pointed at Dean as she gave her order.

"Add one of whatever he's drinking too," she concluded with a giggle and Dean raised his beer bottle to her when the bartender handed it over with a wink and a not-so-subtle once over. Damn, if he played his cards right he could more likely than not come out of this with two willing partners for the night. But even as he concluded the thought he looked over at Sam, who was watching the people mingling, dancing, and playing pool nearby. And suddenly he realized he was being given a chance he might never take otherwise. So he turned to the bride-to-be and leaned down to talk to her.

"So I guess congratulations are in order," he began and her smile widened as she nodded.

"Thank you!"

Dean steeled himself for what he was about to do. This was either about to blow up in his face or give him some of the answers he was looking for.

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded as she gave him her own way-less-than-subtle once over.

"What's it mean to be in love?" he asked and held his breath. She was either going to get pissed, look at him like he was a freak or else—bingo! She was giving him the 'aww you poor thing' look, which was exactly what Dean was hoping for.

"You've never been in love before?" she said with a gasp as she clutched her hands to her heart. "You poor thing!"

Dean shook his head and started to pick at the label of his beer bottle.

"I don't think I have, and since you are, maybe you can tell me what it's like?" he questioned with a blush he would deny to his dying day.

From across the room Sam watched Dean interact with the bride-to-be. He wasn't worried that Dean would go home with the girl. Dean had some rules that he didn't break with his hook-ups and people who were engaged, married, or otherwise very much committed to another person were strictly off-limits. Although from the way one of the bartenders kept looking Dean's way he thought there was a decent chance an offer might still be forthcoming before the night was through.

Dean often accused Sam of thinking too much and Sam relished the chance to indulge himself to his heart's content while Dean's attention was elsewhere. This was especially helpful since Sam was thinking about Dean.

Not that this was a new topic. He'd been thinking about Dean for most of his life in one form or another, but these past few months had seen his thoughts shift somewhat. Ever since the moment he'd blurted out a possibility he hadn't even been aware of conceiving he'd been mulling the entire subject over in his mind.

What would it mean to be in love with Dean? What would change from the love he already felt for his brother? Could Sam ever see himself with Dean that way? Growing up Sam had dreamed of living with Dean—when he was younger it was one of his favorite daydreams to be in a nice clean house with Dean there to read to him, hold him after a nightmare, tell him that he was a good cook (even if it wasn't true and he was just trying not to hurt Sam's feelings) and play with him.

As he grew older the dream did too—it then included them living together raising families. It was a house bustling with love and family. Not that he had all the flaws worked out but it was still a nice dream. And when Stanford came the dream seemed closer to coming true than it ever had before. Sam fully believed that if Dean just gave it a chance he'd embrace the idea like Sam. But then everything blew up and went wrong and Sam let the dream die…until Dean showed up again.

The sight of Dean in Sam's apartment caused the dream to be reborn until once again everything changed in a way it was never supposed to and the dream died along with Jess. Traveling all across the country with his brother for these many months allowed the dream to resurface but it again mutated. For so long after Jess Sam had been sure that he never wanted to ever fall in love again. And so in his dream he and Dean lived together alone. He went to school and Dean did whatever he wanted to do and they were both happy.

They were both happy…that was the most important thing.

But since invoking The Brothers Winchester Code with Dean this last time Sam had wondered if maybe his slip of the tongue was his brain's way of telling him that he was ready to fall in love again. Or that he was already pretty damn close to falling for Dean and if he didn't want that to happen he best be paying more attention to the other people they came into contact with.

He was thankful that Dean hadn't brought up the subject again after the allotted 48 hours, although he knew that was at least in part due to the insane amount of hunting they had done recently. But not being pressured to answer any questions, to explain any reasoning behind Sam's slip had allowed Sam to quietly contemplate how his life and his lifelong dream would change were he to fall in love with his brother.

Sam had already agonized over the whole incest factor, quickly concluding that if either of their parents were alive neither he nor Dean would ever had considered getting into a relationship with each other. But they weren't and Sam knew that people always thought he and Dean were together anyway. It was rare for someone to guess brother before boyfriend.

So from that standpoint if they were together he could answer yes to whatever people guessed. _Yes, he's my boyfriend_ or _yes, he's my brother_ or _yes, he's my best friend_, which made Sam smile for a moment. Dean really was his best friend, always had been, even when they weren't speaking to each other.

As he sat and watched Dean at the bar one part of his brain took note of the unusually serious expression on Dean's face while the other part slowly finalized what it would mean to commit to a relationship with Dean.

Just at that moment Dean looked over at him and smiled, holding up a finger to signal he'd be back soon, that he hadn't forgotten about him. Sam smiled back and raised his empty beer bottle and pointed to it and Dean nodded before turning his attention back to the bar.

As he waited for Dean's return he mused that it'd been a while since he'd seen his brother smile like that. It would be nice to see that more often, even nicer to be the cause of it.

Huh.

That seemed to be the thought his brain had been waiting for him to have, for with it came a sense of closure to the topic of being willing to commit to a relationship with Dean. He felt an odd sense of peace.

"I'd better get back," Dean told the bride-to-be as he got the bartender's attention. "It was nice meeting you. Best of luck with your new husband."

Shelia beamed at the word 'husband' and nodded.

"You, too. I hope I was able to help you."

The bartender handed him two more beers and a napkin that probably had a phone number on it and Dean managed as much of a grin as he could as he walked away, given what the bride-to-be had told him.

He had never been in love before, but from what he now understood it meant that someone was your entire universe. If that was all it was then hell—Sam had been that his entire life. And while Sam hadn't actually said he was currently in love with Dean he had in effect said that Dean was his whole universe, too.

So if you thought about it all that was missing was the sex, really. Not that Dean wanted to think about it, mind you, but sometimes his brain went places he did not give permission for it to go to. Like thinking about Ellen naked. He clamped down on his need to shiver at the thought. Or what about his dad and Ellen going at it? He didn't even bother to suppress that shiver.

Those thoughts were almost disturbing enough to keep him from thinking about sex with his brother.

But almost didn't count for much, so Dean resolved to get through this train of thought as quickly as possible.

One of the main issues here was that neither Dean nor Sam had any concept of personal space, really. A life lived on the road, doing what they did; making do with countless hotel rooms meant they had seen each other at their best, and at their worst, more often than not. That tended to involve pretty much every state of undress.

Serving as evil's punching bag so often meant treating each other's wounds, and when it came to healing there was no room for modesty.

So it was safe to say that Dean was pretty familiar with Sam's body, and vice versa. In a purely functional kind of way, of course.

Because if he were to admit to thinking about his brother in an aesthetic sense (and just because he didn't go to college didn't mean he didn't know big words, okay?) then he'd begrudgingly declare that his brother was a good looking guy.

Not drop dead hurt-me-so-good sexy like Dean, naturally, but then the Fates were notoriously cruel like that. It wasn't his fault that he fell out of the sexy tree and hit every branch on the way down and then proceeded to climb right back up to the top to start the process over again.

But sure, Sam had his own brand of charm. And it shouldn't have surprised Dean yet it did when he just now realized that both of them had watched the other make out with people. So he could say that he knew what his brother looked like when he concentrated on kissing, and vice versa.

Not that he was at all concerned about that fact. It didn't gross him out and since Sam was incapable of keeping his mouth shut when he was bothered by something he had to assume the same went for Sam.

He wondered if that should raise some red flags.

Neither one of them ever brought someone back to the motel (okay let's be honest _Dean_ never brought back somebody) for a fun sleepless-over but it wasn't like they'd never jacked off when the other was in the room. Presumably asleep but sometimes that just didn't matter to whoever was awake and working it.

Not that he thought about jumping Sam during those times. Or ever, really, except of course for this exact moment when he thought the words but generally, no, he didn't think about it. But that was pretty much as far as the sexual stuff went between them.

He knew that people more often than not found it easier to believe they were lovers rather than brothers, and he assumed it was because they were both good looking guys.

But now as he made his way back to Sam he wondered if maybe people just saw that Sam was Dean's everything and it was easier to believe that a lover would feel that instead of a brother.

He reached the booth and handed a beer over to Sam as he slid in. Sam accepted it with a nod of thanks, taking note of the fact that Dean seemed to be pretty deep in thought.

"So you make a new friend?" he asked, nodding over to where the bachelorette party appeared to be setting up to do body shots.

Dean blinked and looked at Sam, glancing over in the party's direction briefly when his brain caught up to what Sam had said. He lifted a shoulder.

"She bought me a drink, that's all, really," he said as he took a pull from his beer.

"It seems like that one bartender was checking you out pretty seriously," Sam ventured, unsure how to get Dean out of his head enough to shake whatever mood he'd fallen into.

But Dean wasn't listening. He was thinking over what he and the bride-to-be had talked about.

"_You poor thing!"_

"_I don't think I have, and since you are, maybe you can tell me what it's like?" _

_She smiled and looked at her own drink, and then she shook her head._

"_I don't know how to explain it, really. It's just, he's everything to me, you know?"_

_And Dean nodded but she looked at him and shook her head._

"_No, you don't understand. I mean he's everything."_

_At this point Dean wondered if she wasn't really way too drunk to be having this conversation._

"_You just said that," he told her and she laughed._

"_I know, but you're just agreeing with me without knowing what I mean."_

_He couldn't really argue with that._

"_It's not about sex," she announced, suddenly serious. "I mean sex is great and it's great with him and it has its place but that's not what it's about."_

_Dean wasn't sure if that was a non sequitur or not. And why wasn't it about sex? In Dean's experience most everything could be related to sex in some way or another._

"_It's about everything else first. It's about the foundation that we have. We're best friends, he's my confidante, he listens to me, and I'm more comfortable around him than I am anyone else. I'm not afraid to argue with him, and I'm willing to compromise. I don't know everything about him but that makes me so excited…we have the rest of our lives to surprise each other with the people we are and the people we're going to grow into by being together."_

_Then she lapsed into a moment's silence and Dean began to wade through what she'd said. He liked the part about surprising each other with the people they are now and the people they'd become. That sounded like something to look forward to. But before he could go much further she spoke up._

"_So who's the person you may or may not be in love with?" she asked and Dean found himself looking over at Sam. When he saw his brother's eyes were already on him he smiled and in the next moment realized Sam had been waiting for him….kind of like he was waiting for him now, actually._

The clink of Sam's bottle against his brought him fully back to the present.

"Don't make me pull out my annoying little brother voice," Sam teased although Dean could sense the not-quite-hidden worry underlying the tone.

"And how would that be different from your normal voice?" Dean replied and grinned a little when Sam's foot softly kicked at his shin.

"Whatever. We both know how fast that makes you crack."

Dean rolled his eyes but didn't say anything which was almost as good as a confession. Sam realized he was going to have to play the waiting game here so he picked up his beer to take a drink.

Dean decided to take the plunge.

"What was it like to be in love?"

"What?" Sam's hand halted its progress mid-lift. "Why would you ask me that?"

Dean shrugged while Sam took a drink.

"Do you think that if you fall in love with me you'd want to have sex with me, too?"

Sam choked.

"Dean!"

"What? I think it's a fair question."

Sam swiped at his chin with his palm, shaking his head as he smeared the beer onto his shirtfront.

"You know it's times like these that I wonder if you really _do_ have an upstairs brain."

Dean frowned and picked up his beer again and as Sam studied his reaction he realized that Dean genuinely wanted to know the answer. _Why_ he wanted to know was less clear.

"Why do you want to know that, Dean?"

There was a long silence that followed Sam's statement but eventually Dean started talking.

"I can't believe I'm actually initiating this conversation…But ever since the last time we invoked The Code I've been thinking about what you said. And I wanted to know how likely it was to happen so I could prepare myself, you know?"

And even though Dean wasn't looking at him Sam nodded, because that was classic Dean. Sure, he may go in guns blazing when it came to supernatural stuff but anything outside of that required a much more solid plan.

"But then I realized that no matter how likely it was to happen I still had a problem. I don't know what it would mean if you did. And I don't know what it would feel like if _I_ did, let alone what it would mean. So I've been thinking, trying to come up with the answers. When I saw that girl—" he broke off to nod his head over at the bachelorette party, "I realized that I had a chance to ask someone who was as in love as a person can be, presumably. I mean she's getting married, she seems pretty psyched about it, you know? So I thought she could tell me."

Sam sat back as comprehension dawned on his features.

"That's why you looked so serious. You were asking her to explain it to you," he mused and Dean nodded.

"And I just wondered how _you,_ Sam Winchester, know if you're in love with someone, because if it really is as simple as accepting that someone is the center of your universe then I figure I've been in love with you forever."

* * *

End of Chapter Five 


	6. Six of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (06/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Author's Note: Thank you so very very much to all who continue to read this fic. I am grateful beyond words. To shakamia: I hope I did not keep you waiting too long! And Dani: I don't think you're lame at all. Updated stories make my night as well! I hope this chapter meets your expectations?

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

For at least a solid five minutes Sam said nothing, just stared at Dean with his mouth open and his eyes as wide as they'd ever been. Dean was used to people staring, of course, but this was a tad creepy. But he knew that Sam needed to process and so he sucked it up, choosing to nurse his beer and people watch until he heard a sort of strangled noise emit from Sam's throat.

"Fuck!" It sounded like someone was choking him, and Dean knew what that tone of voice sounded like from too many creatures getting their kicks out of squeezing his little brother's windpipe.

Dean settled his gaze on Sam, who was looking over his features as if he'd never seen him before and was somewhat amazed at the sight. It unnerved Dean slightly and he furrowed his brow. Sam finally looked away and drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"Dean!" he hissed, grabbing the edge of the table as if in need of its support. Dean decided to just look at Sam, not knowing if anything he said was going to be a good idea.

"You can't say shit like that to me, _especially_ if you don't want me to fall in love with you!"

Which was another problem...Dean deciding he kind of, sort of, maybe, possibly wanted Sam to fall in love with him. He shrugged.

"In the spirit of confession and everything I'm not sure I don't."

Sam held Dean's gaze for a moment before he shook his head as if to clear it.

"Wait…so you're saying you might want that? A relationship between us?"

Dean tugged at his lower lip as he thought about what to say.

"Maybe. I mean, from what she was telling me it seems like we already have the foundation that people look for when they're choosing someone to spend the rest of their lives with, right?"

Sam slowly nodded, trying to rid himself of the feeling that he was in an episode of The Twilight Zone. But even as he tried to ground himself he held on to the warmth bubbling inside him because no matter what happened he had learned that finding someone you could even talk to about this subject were very few and far between. Even as the concept scared him he counted himself lucky that he'd found someone else who was at least considering forever with him.

"So if that's the case then all that's left to work out is the sex part."

Of _course_ Dean would be thinking of sex.

"Dean!" Sam sighed in exasperation.

"What? Seriously, Sam, what? I don't see a relationship between us happening with no sex. I mean, it's unnatural."

Sam snorted, he couldn't help it.

"Kind of like a sexual relationship between us would be?"

"I don't think it'd be unnatural at all, Sam."

And Sam wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that. He _was_ sure that hearing Dean say that wasn't supposed to turn him on at all and yet it did. Not so much that it completely consumed him but enough to freak him out. He realized that he was reacting to the tone of Dean's voice as much as the words.

His tone wasn't his '_I'm Dean Winchester and we both know you want me'_ one—instead it was his '_I'm Dean Winchester and I know exactly how to kill you, bitch'_ tone. The one he used when he had a foolproof plan and couldn't wait to execute it. The tone he used to calm Sam down when he had nightmares as a kid. The tone that always translated into '_I will die for you without a thought' _and made Sam feel as though nothing in the world could get past Dean.

It told him that Dean had given this serious thought and he truly believed what he had told Sam. Dean never lied with that tone. When Sam didn't say anything Dean continued.

"I don't. I think it'd take some time to adapt but in my experience we've already got one of the most important elements you could want and it's trust. When you trust your partner you can let go in every way possible."

Sam just gaped at him and Dean smirked.

"Plus I'm insanely good-looking. Almost ridiculously so, in fact. That can't hurt. In fact in my experience it only helps matters."

Sam looked away, a reluctant grin pulling at his lips.

"You're ridiculous, all right."

Dean spread his hands in exasperation.

"Is it so crazy for me to want to work this out?"

"Work this out how? I mean, are you thinking we're going to—" Sam said, only to stop when Dean raised a hand and shook his head.

"No, actually I don't want to have sex," he told him and then gave Sam a self-deprecating grin as he pointed at him. "And before your smart mouth can say anything no I don't remember the last time was that I said that. But I don't want to. I'm not sure if we did that now that we could get past it if things went south."

He broke off to chuckle and Sam had to smile at the unintentional pun.

"I mean if things went bad. But I do want to do something to see if I can ever think of you that way."

And that made Sam more nervous than he could remember being.

"Something that we can chalk up to just something we did one night when we were drinking, if we have to."

But Dean fell silent and just looked at Sam, who allowed the gaze until it became clear that Dean was content to wait. Sam wondered what had shut Dean up and then he realized that Dean had been talking pretty much all night and he was maybe waiting for Sam to demonstrate an interest in participating in this conversation.

"What do you want to do, Dean?"

Dean gave him a brief grin before becoming serious.

"I think we should kiss."

Sam shook his head no emphatically.

"Dean, doing something like that is going to put us on that path."

Dean huffed a breath.

"And would being on that path be such a bad thing, Sam? Frankly if there's a chance it's going to happen sooner rather than later I'd rather start sooner. That way if there's shit to work out we can work it out now."

Sam sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

"What exactly do you think kissing is going to accomplish, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at him as if Sam were the densest person he had ever met.

"I'm pretty sure I just said what I think it would accomplish, Sam. I want to know if I could ever develop sexual feelings for you and I think a kiss is the best way to do that."

Sam nodded his head.

"That's what I thought. You have no idea what it would accomplish."

This time Dean looked at him as if he were the craziest person he had ever met.

"Okay you're gonna have to explain that one."

"It's not just a kiss, Dean."

"Of course it is."

"Not between us it wouldn't be, at least not for me. I'm pretty sure I know what sort of thoughts I'd have if we kissed, and they wouldn't solely be about sex."

Dean didn't have to feign his growing confusion.

"How can you know already what you'd think?"

Sam fixed him with a long look before he squared himself up and spoke.

"Do you really want to know?"

Dean paused for a moment but his hesitancy to really get into this discussion with Sam was outweighed by his curiosity to know what Sam would say. He just couldn't get past Sam's already knowing what he'd think if they kissed. There was just no way, Dean's brain told him. No way he'd know unless…

Dean's eyes widened to near-comical proportions.

"Holy shit," he breathed out, and Sam peered at him in concern.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

"You've thought about this, Sam," he near whispered and Sam's cheeks flushed red and his gaze darted away. "You've like, really thought about this."

Sam nodded his head sharply once.

"I don't think you know what you're asking for. You're asking for me to give serious consideration to being in a relationship with you. Do you understand what that means for me?"

And Dean shook his head no because this was something he didn't understand at all. He had no problems admitting that he was way out of his element. Plus that curiosity he'd been feeling had grown until it was gnawing at his belly.

Sam caught his gaze and held it while he spoke.

"It means giving myself to you completely, no holds barred. It means you own me, that no one else will ever be with me. You will factor into every decision I make, and your happiness will be my pursuit. It means that I will want you to be mine. I will not want to share you with anybody, and watching you flirt will kill me inside and not having my feelings reciprocated will be hell on earth. It means I will hurt anything that touches you and I will kill anyone who hurts you. My love for you will be the driving force in my life and nothing will stand a chance against it."

Dean's mouth was as slack-jawed as Sam had ever seen it. He knew that Dean wasn't fully processing what he was saying, but that he was at least taking it in, so he finished up while he had Dean's attention.

"Are you ready for that possibility? You better make sure because this is not something I would ever do lightly. And if you weren't doing it for the right reasons I'd know. I'd know if you were doing it just because you thought it'd make me happy and that would just about kill me, Dean. It really would. So I want you to think about what you're asking, because I need you to understand the consequences."

As Sam stopped speaking and reached for his beer Dean didn't know what to think. Well that's not entirely true, but it was difficult to think past the fact that he'd gone completely hard when Sam had said '_It means I will hurt anything that touches you and I will kill anyone who hurts you. My love for you will be the driving force in my life and nothing will stand a chance against it'_ and wasn't that a surprise? That Sam could even vaguely imagine feeling that possessive of Dean? And damn the look in his eyes when he said it! As much fire and brimstone as Dean had ever seen, but never on his behalf before now.

His crank was well and truly turned now, and he wondered if he really needed that test.

Because Sam's words had unlocked a primal need to stake his own claim deep within Dean, and he wanted to lay claim to Sam with a fierceness that thrilled him where maybe before it would have shocked him. He wanted to own Sam in every way there was, and fighting hard alongside that was a need to be owned by Sam in every way there was as well.

It was a Herculean effort but he clamped down the impulse to haul Sam over to his side of the bar table. Because even though he was hard as hell and wanted to fuck hard and fast Sam was right…it wasn't completely about sex. It was about something that would change their lives forever. And not in a way they could ever get past. This wasn't merely a thing they could say they once did.

A relationship between them changed the fabric of their entire lives until death. If they did this and things got fucked up there was no do over, no going back to being brothers. There was only pain and separation…that would likely not end before their deaths.

And it would all start with a kiss. Sam hit the nail on the head. It would be the beginning of their relationship; it could never be anything but that, really. Because kissing each other was laying claim to each other, pure and simple. It was sealing the pact, the unspoken agreement, the understanding that they now belonged to the other and no one else.

Their first kiss would be hello to each other and goodbye to everyone else in the universe.

Dean got that now. He may be a bit slow on the uptake but he got there, eventually. He also knew he was pretty fucked already….no matter what problems he foresaw he hadn't managed to talk himself out of this would-be relationship yet.

He laid the majority of the blame for that at Sam's feet. Partly because he was older and could do what he wanted, but mostly because Sam had been thinking about it first. He had thought about having a relationship with Dean, an honest-to-god, this-is-my-boyfriend, "honey I'm home" relationship.

The last person to think about being in a relationship with Dean was Cassie, and she only thought "no way in hell." Sam had thought about it and hadn't said hell no, he'd said he'd do it…if Dean came into it with the right intentions.

But all Dean had in the way of intentions was the desire to make sure no one ever hurt his baby brother…even himself. So if there was a chance that getting into a different relationship would hurt Sam then maybe it was best to just drop the entire idea.

He opened his mouth to say that but then something deep within him gently whispered to him and he shut his mouth to hear what that voice was saying. And what he heard was that Sam had been giving this a lot of thought, and even though he didn't know exactly how much Dean felt pretty sure it was a helluva lot more than he himself had given to it.

So maybe Dean should do that too. Would it hurt anything to take some time to give this whole thing some serious thought? Dean hadn't even fully processed everything Sam said yet. Not to mention allowing the revelation that Sam was apparently all right with being in a relationship with Dean to fully sink in.

It was probably for the best that he mull everything over and make sure that his reactions didn't hurt Sam's feelings. Dean never knew what random thing would trip Sam's overly emo radar and cause him to look at Dean like there would never be anything to smile at ever again.

But Sam apparently took Dean's silence to mean that he was upset with Sam or some other such nonsense for Sam was biting his thumb nail.

"What's the matter, Dean?"

"Nothing, Sam."

Somehow in a not-surprising-at-all way that didn't calm Sam down.

"Don't give me that, Dean. What were you going to say?"

"I wasn't going to say anything, Sammy."

"Oh sure. So you just opened and closed your mouth to make sure your jaw was still working?"

It was times like these that Dean wondered if Sammy really was part puppy because man he was like a dog with a bone when he really wanted to get you to spill. Dean sighed.

"I was going to say something about this whole thing but I think maybe it'd be better to just think about it for a while, make sure I know what I want to say for sure. Okay?"

Sam smiled and Dean peered at him curiously.

"Why are you smiling, geek boy?"

Sam lifted a shoulder and ducked his head.

"I don't know. It's just…it means a lot that you're willing to think about it, that you're not just biting my head off and telling me that we're done talking. No matter what, the fact that you're taking this so seriously really impresses me and makes me feel good."

Dean cuffed him on the back of the head, easily dodging the return blow.

"Come on, let's get moving. There's a pizza with our names on it and it's not going to eat itself."

"Unless it's possessed maybe."

He looked at Sam for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing.

"Sure thing, Sammy. We'll christo the box before opening it if it makes you feel better."

_Seeing you laugh makes me feel better already_, Sam thought to himself as he followed Dean out to the parking lot and into the car.

* * *

End of Chapter Six

* * *


	7. Seven of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (07/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Author's Note: Thank you to all who continue to read this fic. I continue to be grateful beyond words. And yes, I know how short this chapter is, so hopefully the next one will make up for that. To Rayne: Thanks! I hope you like this chapter too!

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

_I almost lost Sammy._ This wasn't a new thought for Dean to have after a hunt. In fact, it was a fairly common one for him. But as he lay on his back, struggling to get enough air in his lungs to keep from passing out, it occurred to him that he was starting to take that thought for granted. He was assuming that the almost in the statement was always going to be true, and that just wasn't the case.

So why was he acting like it was? Why was he doing any of it, really? Why was he spending time thinking about whether or not to change his relationship with Sammy? It's not that the subject didn't warrant considerable thought, because it most certainly did, but he was missing the bigger picture.

He was waiting to start living a different life with Sam based solely on whether or not they were in love. He already knew he loved Sammy, of course, and that Sam loved Dean, too…it's just he wasn't 100 percent on the whole in love thing.

Why didn't they start living a different life, a better life, in the here and now? What were they trying to prove?

He almost lost Sam again tonight. A moment's hesitation and he would be mourning his brother instead of taking solace in the fact that he was here with him, also striving to breathe in as much oxygen as he could.

Why wasn't he trying to make Sam happier instead of just trying to keep him safe? Keeping him safe was of course of paramount concern but didn't they deserve to be happy too?

Look at how their dad died. There one instant and gone the next. He died with his life's quest unfulfilled.

Suddenly all the waiting seemed pointless.

"What are we waiting for?" he wondered, unaware that he had spoken the thought aloud until Sam spoke up.

"Currently? For the air to return to our lungs so we can attempt to move again," Sam wheezed out, deciding that he was never going to be able to accomplish such a feat and thus the floor was his new home.

"Well yeah, that, but I meant in a broader sense," Dean stated with a sound that Sam guessed would have been a laugh if he had possessed enough oxygen to convert it.

"Okay. Be more specific, then," Sam told him.

"Why don't we get a house?"

Sam was surprised enough to roll over to face Dean, a move that his body protested vehemently.

"Oh crap that hurt. What? I thought we were waiting until we killed the demon?"

Dean nodded once.

"Yeah I know, but why? I mean, if tonight's taught us anything besides we really need to stretch before we go on hunts then it's that we're not guaranteed tomorrow. So why wait for a day that may never come? Why don't we go ahead and start to live more like we would if it did?"

Sam let what Dean was suggesting tumble about in his brain. He'd been thinking of getting a house and everything else that accompanied it as some sort of reward once they'd killed the demon but Dean was right. Why were they doing that? Why not get what pleasure they could out of building a life that included hunting but didn't revolve solely around it?

Sometimes Dean really was the smartest person Sam knew.

"Wow. I mean yeah, absolutely. You're right."

Dean snorted.

"Must you sound so surprised? I'm right a lot, you know."

Sam ignored that comment, knowing they'd just have to agree to disagree on that.

"Let's do it, Dean. Let's buy a house."

* * *

End of Chapter Seven 


	8. Eight of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (08/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Author's Note: Hello all. Thanks to all who continue to read this fic. I am grateful beyond words to have you following this.

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

Of course they bought a haunted house. It was really the simplest solution when all was said and done. The research had led them to the perfect lakeshore cottage in upstate Washington. Once there the house's history combined with the spirit's antics when the realtor had showed the place to the Winchesters saw the price lowered to an almost laughable level.

Having a house rocked, especially right at this moment when Sam had just dropped Dean onto his bed and was searching for some rope to tie his brother up for the next three days. Knowing that he didn't have to worry about housekeeping barging in or their neighbors banging on the walls was awesome.

Less awesome was the incubi bite that Dean was suffering from that necessitated him getting tied to the bed. Damn incubi…they rarely worked in pairs but it was just their luck that the one they'd been hunting had a partner who had chosen to make his appearance as they were distracted by killing the first one.

Sam only had time to lift his hand in warning before the second incubus was on Dean, who managed to throw it off but not before it had bitten his arm and left a pretty nasty gash. Sam had finished it off and hurried over to assess the damage.

"Get me home, Sammy," Dean had gritted out between teeth clenched in pain.

If you didn't know how to deal with the bites then you were pretty much screwed….or rather, anyone you came into contact potentially was. Incubi bites were how the species regenerated, which seemed out of sorts for a sexually driven demon but not all demons adhered to the expected.

The trick was to keep the infected person from having sexual intercourse for three days. Sam didn't want to know how the person who had found this bit of trivia out came by the information, he was just glad it was true.

The difficulty lay in the fact that starting about two hours after being bitten the individual in question became entirely focused on sex. Add to that a nice boost in strength that they could use to subdue those who may be unwilling to accommodate them and you had the need to tie them up before they could take advantage of it. Their dad had theorized that some serial rapists had been bitten by incubi.

So Sam had to tie Dean down and keep him immobile for three days. Dean had been doing his best to fight the effects of the bite but as Sam found the rope and began to tie him down he could see that he was losing the battle. He arched off the bed in pain, and his eyes were beginning to white out, a really creepy effect that lasted until the transformation was complete or until the three days had passed and the person was out of the woods.

"Tighter," Dean whispered and Sam merely nodded and wound the rope tight enough to cut into Dean's wrists if he moved too much. Sam hated the idea of Dean bearing ligature marks but he knew that it was by far the preferred alternative.

He cleaned the cut on Dean's arm and his other injuries as best as he could, trying to ignore the low moans and groans that Dean kept making every time Sam touched him. Time was not too long ago that Sam would be using this as ammunition against Dean for a good century at least…as it was now he blushed harder than he ever had in his life and he cursed the incubi for existing.

Once he had secured Dean he set about taking care of his own wounds. Just before they left to go on the hunt he'd made the mistake of telling Dean that he wasn't feeling well. Dean had almost called off the hunt but Sam had insisted that he'd rest once they got back. As Dean drove he felt a little bit worse but he shrugged it off, a move he was now regretting for obvious reasons.

He felt more than a bit nauseated and once the adrenaline rush of needing to get Dean taken care of had worn off he wondered if maybe he really did have food poisoning or the flu.

If he did have something then he probably should go to sleep, although he hadn't planned on it, too worried about Dean pulling through. But he couldn't deny that the light-headedness he was also feeling was demanding that he sleep.

So he decided to shower and hoped that the sting of the water on his bruises and cuts would keep him awake. But as soon as he got into the bathroom a wave of nausea overtook him and he ended up succumbing to it, spending countless minutes on the floor in front of the toilet. Once he felt like he could move he inched his way into the room with Dean.

"Sam?" Dean called out and Sam ignored him, focusing on the ropes. Once he was able to see that the binds appeared to be holding he passed out.

When he came to it was to be sick again and he groaned as he recognized that this was going to be the pattern of events for at least the next 24 hours.

He could hear Dean asking for him yet he could only croak out that he was okay in a voice he wasn't sure carried from the bathroom. But once he had emptied his stomach for frankly far longer than he thought was possible he couldn't check on Dean. He was just too damned tired to move. He pulled a towel down and curled up on the floor, his thoughts on Dean as he drifted off.

The next time he woke up he felt like he could maybe shower. He still felt a little queasy but he thought he could maybe outlast it and get into bed after he checked on Dean. As soon as he was through with his shower he went in to see him. He had just put on some dry clothes when he heard Dean's voice.

"Goddamn," Dean whispered and Sam looked over at him, worried that the pain was too much. Dean's eyes were scrunched tight.

"Sam…I need you," he pleaded and Sam slowly made his way over to the bed, still concerned about his own ill feelings. He sat down next to Dean.

"What do you need, Dean? Another pain pill?"

Dean shook his head.

"I need you to fuck me, Sam," he replied and Sam shot to his feet and instantly regretted the move as a wave of vertigo overtook him. He fought hard against the accompanying nausea but ended up back in the bathroom anyway.

He was going to kill Dean, once this was through. At the very least they were going to have a serious talk about wearing armor or something to prevent future incubi bites.

When he finally made his way back into the room Dean's eyes were open, and they were completely white now and his gaze was focused on Sam.

"Please, Sam," he begged and Sam shook his head as he checked the salt lines around the windows.

"You've only got to make it for less than a day and a half, Dean," he told him wearily, rubbing his head. "Besides, you don't really want me. It's just the incubus bite making you say that."

Dean laughed.

"When did I ever say that I didn't want you, Sam?"

That made Sam blink hard and glance over at Dean, who grinned a Cheshire smile.

"Oh Sam, the things I want to do to you. I want to fuck the taste of anyone else out of you. I want you screaming my name like it's the only word you know. I want—"

As Dean continued Sam's focus switched to his own thoughts. He needed to keep in mind that this wasn't really his Dean. His Dean had never had these thoughts about Sam…at least, Sam was pretty sure he hadn't. Not that his Dean wasn't capable of coming up with this stuff but he'd never just detail fantasies to Sam like this, at least not while they were still trying to figure out if they were going to have a relationship or not.

No. His Dean would have no trouble coming up with this stuff which is why it wasn't his Dean. Wait. Did that make sense? Sam struggled to follow his own train of thought while fighting against the urge to sleep. His head felt hot and he just wanted to close his eyes. He abandoned hope of making sense of his musings and tuned back in to Dean.

"—maybe an ostrich feather, what do you think?"

And what the _hell_ had he missed? That sounded like one of the weirdest non sequiturs Sam had ever heard. He twisted partially away from Dean.

"You know what? I think I'm sicker than I thought. You're talking crazy. Maybe I should get some sleep."

Dean nodded, which surprised Sam. There was something off here, something that Sam couldn't put his finger on. If only his head wasn't pounding and his stomach wasn't hurting and if he wasn't so worried about Dean maybe it would jump out at him but he was just too overwhelmed.

"I'll be fine. You should go get some sleep."

Sam bit his lip as he contemplated how much better he would feel if he did sleep. He trudged over to Dean's side and sat down to check the bindings. Dean barely bit back the groans caused when Sam's hands touched his skin, fleeting as it was. Once Sam was satisfied they would hold he prepared to get back up.

"Wait, Sam," Dean said. "Just lie down and sleep here."

"What?" Sam asked.

"It makes more sense. You'll be closer to the bathroom in case you get sick again plus if something goes wrong with me you'll be right here."

That did make sense. Sam nodded, missing the look Dean gave him. Had he seen it, he would have moved away as quickly as possible. He gingerly lay back and waited to see if his body was going to revolt but all he felt was blessed sleepiness.

"That's it, Sam. Just sleep now, you'll feel better soon," Dean's voice soothed and Sam slipped into slumber.

It seemed like only seconds had passed when he heard Dean's voice calling to him.

"Sam, you're too close to the edge of the bed. Scoot back towards me, okay?"

Sam frowned but moved back anyway, not wanting to wake up enough to fight with Dean over his positioning. As he entered Dean's personal space he felt a chill coming from Dean that was positively beckoning his fever-racked frame.

"Cold, Dean," he sighed and Dean's chuckle rolled over him.

"Is it bothering you, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, already on the cusp of sleep.

"So move closer, take advantage of it."

Sam inched back until he was flush against Dean's side, and the coolness that seeped into his body made him burrow into Dean with a happy snuffle. He pillowed his head on Dean's shoulder. As he fell back asleep he barely felt Dean press a kiss on the back of his neck and whisper into his skin.

"Perfect, Sam."

Sam loved The Odyssey. As he lowered himself between the bleachers and leaned back into the metal he cracked it open. He'd lost himself in the prose when a voice piped up next to him.

"Which one is yours?"

He looked up and squinted, unable to believe he was seeing correctly. Sitting next to him was Cindy Barbold. Blonde, busty, and unfortunately a bitch…Sam had nursed a huge crush on her when he was a freshman but she'd been completely and totally oblivious to him...at first. Dean had gone out with her once but when he learned of Sam's crush on her he never asked her out again. Then she'd turned her attention to Sam, but only as a means of getting him to convince Dean to take her out again.

When Sam had realized why she was being so nice to him it had completely broken his heart.

But as Sam digested the realization that she was there he also saw that every girl and guy he'd crushed on during high school and college up until Jess was there as well. They were talking among themselves but they were looking at Sam between sentences, as if waiting for his answer.

"My what?" he finally asked, and Cindy pointed. Sam followed the movement and saw that he was in front of a field. Looking closer he noticed a soccer game was going on and that Dean was playing. As if feeling Sam's gaze Dean looked up and smiled and waved.

"That's your boyfriend?" Cindy asked and Sam turned back to face her. She didn't seem to think anything strange of the question she'd asked. Sam nodded slowly although part of his brain was saying "what?" and to his surprise she smiled. She looked over at the other spectators who were all smiling and pointing between Sam and Dean.

"He's gorgeous," she told him and Sam blushed.

"Hey Sam."

* * *

End of Chapter Eight 


	9. Nine of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (09/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

**Further SPOILER ALERT: **

**It's been brought to my attention that I may be foreshadowing part of the latter half of season two??? I HAVE NOT SEEN PAST HUNTED, so for the love of whoever we pray to in order to keep us spoiler free PLEASE don't say stuff like that. If I am it's all a coincidence, I assure you.**

Author's Note: Greetings and salutations. As always, thanks to all who continue to read this. I am beyond grateful to have you following this.

* * *

Chapter Nine

* * *

Sam's gaze snapped up at the sound of Dean's voice. Dean, who was suddenly right in front of him instead of on the field. The chatter of Sam's former crushes became merely background noise. Dean was wearing a jade green jersey over black and white soccer shorts and his skin was flush from the exertion of the game. As Sam watched he pulled the shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. Sam's gaze darted downward to the exposed skin before he knew that he'd done it and when the shirt dropped back down Sam quickly looked back up to see Dean smirking at him.

"There's no room for me, Sam," Dean said as he turned away and Sam had an irrational moment of panic.

"Don't leave, Dean!"

The smile Dean gave him as he turned back around made Sam's insides melt. Dean kicked at Sam's foot with his cleat.

"Spread 'em, then."

Sam complied without question and could only watch in amazement as Dean settled himself between Sam's legs. When he leaned back against his chest Sam was assaulted with the smell of grass, sweat, sunshine and Dean.

He hesitated, unsure of what to do or say but Dean was apparently not suffering from the same dilemma. He demonstrated this by reaching over with one hand and, threading his fingers through Sam's he brought them both to rest on his stomach while he shifted his other arm up so it rested on Sam's chest and he could tangle his fingers in the ends of Sam's hair.

As if this happened every day instead of, oh, say…._never_.

But the indecision lasted only an instant before Sam surrendered himself completely to the moment. He let himself relax fully and felt all the ways that Dean's body molded to his own. He hadn't realized until that second how much he had missed just the simple act of sharing personal space with another person.

Unbidden a wave of emotion hit Sam and he tightened his arm around Dean, bringing his other arm up to hold his brother close. He buried his nose behind Dean's ear and just breathed in, allowing the comfort of having Dean so close soothe him.

For his part Dean just tilted his head slightly to allow Sam to get as close as he wanted and he breathed a small sigh of affection out, returning the tight grip. Sam lost himself totally and it wasn't until Dean twisted his head, using his nose to gently bump Sam's jaw, that he came back.

Sam lifted his head up and smiled bashfully but Dean didn't take the opportunity to tease him, he just tilted his chin towards the girls and guys, who Sam was astonished to still see there although there was now a section of unoccupied bleachers between them.

"What were they talking to you about?" Dean asked and Sam blushed.

"They wanted to know if you were my boyfriend," he admitted and Dean grinned.

"What did you say?"

Sam shrugged and his move jostled Dean slightly.

"I said you were," he whispered and looked away. Dean pulled gently on his hair and Sam forced himself to meet Dean's gaze.

"You better have," Dean teased as he leaned in and playfully nipped at his jaw. "I'd hate to have to kick your ass."

The feeling of Dean's teeth grazing his skin caused a full body shudder through Sam. He closed his eyes for a moment and he was surprised to hear Dean's voice so close.

"Just so you know…I'm going to pull your hair harder than that when I fuck you."

Sam breathed in sharply, suddenly turned on and lit up like a firecracker but when he opened his eyes they were in a room that Sam recognized as one of the nicer hotel rooms they had stayed in. Dean wasn't with him and Sam looked around slowly from his position on the bed, trying to focus through the haze of arousal that had settled on him.

The clock radio next to the bed was on and Sam listened to the song, Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer," while he waited for Dean to appear or for his limbs to lose their sudden heaviness.

The door to the bathroom opened and Dean came out, steam billowing behind him. He was wearing dark slacks and he was buttoning up his nice crisp dress shirt. He was humming to himself as he meandered around the room looking for his shoes.

"Have you seen my shoes, Sam?" he asked and Sam shook his head. Dean looked over to get his answer and his gaze heated as it swept over Sam.

"Where're you going, Dean?" Sam asked and cursed the shaky nature of his voice.

Dean's eyebrow lifted in confusion and he went over to the mirror over the dresser and began to knot his tie.

"On that date you set me up on, Sam," he informed him and went to look in the closet for his shoes. Sam made a noise of protest…he had made a date for Dean? Why would he do that? He sat up and maneuvered to the end of the bed, wondering how he was going to convince Dean that he hadn't meant to make the date in the first place and that he wanted Dean to cancel it now.

"Would you rather I stayed here with you?"

Sam glanced up sharply, his arousal ratcheting up a notch at the husky timbre of Dean's tone, and he nodded. Dean smiled a shark's grin as he walked over.

"You gonna be as much fun as my date?" he queried and Sam grinned.

"More," he told him and Dean laughed, then his attention turned to the clock radio.

"Ooh, turn it up, Sam!"

Sam shook his head but did as Dean asked, smiling when he heard the song…Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me." Sam remembered listening to this song when he and Dean were first allowed to drive the Impala alone together and that one of them had mentioned that it was a fantastic stripper song.

He figured it was probably a Dean comment and he chuckled before he realized that Dean was doing exactly that…stripping. Sam's eyes widened as Dean unknotted the tie and he gaped up at Dean who merely winked.

"Don't figure I need to be all dressed up now that I've got no place to go."

Sam couldn't exactly find fault with that logic not to mention anything to say so he ended up watching mutely as Dean continued to strip, never taking his eyes off Sam. Dean undid the buttons of his cuffs, then started at the bottom and undid each of the shirt's buttons as well.

Part of Sam's mind detached itself enough to note not only was this entire thing incredibly, ridiculously hot, but that one of the reasons why was due to the very subtle nature of the act. Dean wasn't moving much at all, his movements were controlled and precise. In truth the only real dancing he was doing was a soft sway of his hips to the beat of the song but Sam couldn't deny he was hopelessly aroused by it.

But it wasn't enough. The more he was around Dean, the closer his brother moved to him, the more he wanted. So when Dean smoothly pulled his belt out of its loops Sam leaned forward and grabbed it, using it to slowly tug Dean towards him. Giving a wicked smile Dean straddled Sam's lap and dropped the belt, running his hands from the tops of Sam's thighs to his neck, where he slowly stroked the skin with his thumbs.

"Something you want, Sam?" Dean leaned down to speak in his ear and Sam held his breath. "Because there's definitely something I want. Can I kiss you?"

Mouth suddenly gone dry, all Sam could manage was a shaky nod.

Dean moved his mouth to the side of Sam's neck and placed a chaste kiss there, just barely allowing his lips to make contact. Before Sam could say anything he followed it up with an open-mouthed kiss that had Sam's breath falter. His tongue snuck out to quickly lick the spot before he set his lips down firmly and sucked. Sam was glad he wasn't standing as his knees positively buckled from the feelings.

"I thought you wanted to kiss me, Dean," he finally managed even as he held on to the back of Dean's neck to keep him from moving.

"What do you think I'm doing, Sam?" he responded with a dirty chuckle before he went right back to working the skin with his teeth.

Sam was going to come from this and nothing else. If he'd been in complete control of his faculties he would have laughed at himself for eons that he was this hard and desperate to come before they'd even done anything explicitly sexual. But every pulse of his skin in Dean's mouth sent a corresponding throb straight to his groin.

Dean suddenly broke away to look at Sam and his gaze made Sam's blood boil even more.

"Usually we think it's not worth it to bother getting someone to the point where they want to be fucked," Dean told him and Sam's brain struggled to make sense of the words. "But from the moment I saw you I knew…you're going to make this so good for me, aren't you?"

And _that_ Sam could agree with. In fact as he nodded he realized that he was letting Dean get him all wound up but he wasn't doing anything for Dean. He had to fight to not only regain control of his limbs but to keep that thought in mind, as the majority of his brain wanted him to just let Dean get him off.

But the more he thought about it the greater the percentage of his brain got on board with the idea that getting Dean off would be pretty fantastic, too. In fact, having Dean beneath him wanting Sam to fuck him was actually something that needed to happen…_now_.

Trusting Dean's instinct to kick in and prevent him from falling backwards Sam grabbed Dean's hips and in one move lifted both of them off the bed for a moment before he flipped them over. Dean bounced for a second, hands grabbing at Sam's shoulders before he looked up at him with wide eyes.

"How did you do that?" he asked in amazement and Sam shrugged, unclear why Dean was apparently impressed by a move they had both done before during many a sparring match. Letting his brother be he set himself to the task of tasting Dean.

He impatiently pushed the shirt open and lowered his mouth to Dean's collarbone, dropping soft kisses that turned into not-so-gentle bites when Dean rocked up into him, breathing erratically. Sam let the texture and the tangy taste of Dean's skin consume his senses.

"You shouldn't be able to…" Dean began but trailed off as Sam's mouth made contact again. He groaned and arched up off the bed and Sam's blood pumped faster with the knowledge that he was breaking Dean's control—he was responsible for putting his brother in the state he was in.

"God Sam, I need, I need, I need—" Dean stuttered and Sam lifted his head and smiled, letting his hands tease the skin about Dean's waistband.

"What do you need, Dean?" he asked as he watched the play of muscles beneath his hands.

Dean's gaze cleared and he reached up and pressed hard against the mark he'd made on Sam's neck. Sam's brain immediately filled with that same haze of arousal he'd been fighting when he first found himself on the bed and he closed his eyes and dropped his head to Dean's chest, moaning lowly.

Dean worked himself out from beneath Sam and he let up on the mark only long enough to get Sam to move to the head of the bed. Once he had Sam laying on his side he sucked the bruised skin back into his mouth and Sam could only gasp and shut his eyes as his world narrowed to the feeling of Dean surrounding him.

"Open up, Sam," he heard Dean whisper and he opened his mouth and hummed in happiness when he felt two of Dean's fingers. He began to suck on them, rolling his tongue over and under and between and he smiled around them when he heard Dean groan.

"Damn," Dean murmured, "I bet you are just a fantastic cocksucker, aren't you? Mmm if I didn't need to fuck you I'd consider finding out." He leaned up and tugged on Sam's earlobe with his teeth for a moment before whispering in his ear. "Maybe if you're good I'll let you suck me hard again. What do you think, Sam? Can you be good for me?"

Sam nodded and whimpered when he felt Dean press against him from behind. Sam shuddered at the feeling of his brother's skin against his own. But wait…when had Sam taken off his clothes? He was dizzy with want, it was like trying to think through a fog and all Sam could focus on were the feelings Dean was invoking in him.

"That's it, Sam. Show me how slick you can get them, okay?"

After a few more blissful minutes Dean pulled his fingers free and before Sam could complain they were pressing into him oh so slowly. Sam arched his back and hissed. Dean's other hand came up and Sam greedily latched on to the proffered digits and sucked them into his mouth, working them in a counter rhythm to the pace that Dean was working his other fingers in and out of Sam.

Dean started to alternate between scissoring and curling his fingers inside Sam and when he hit Sam's prostrate Sam's back bowed as he slammed himself back down on Dean's fingers, causing Dean to chuckle.

Sam wanted to come and he could tell that he was close…so close. It would just take a couple of strokes of his hand at most and then he thought he might pass out from what promised to be the strongest orgasm of his life. He started to move his hand down but suddenly Dean's voice rang out.

"Stop it, Sam."

Sam's brow furrowed. Why was Dean being like this? Couldn't he see how very much Sam wanted to—no, scratch that—_needed_ to come?

"I don't think you get what I want here, Sam," Dean told him, his mouth maintaining contact with Sam's skin as he talked. "I want you to be so hot for me, so desperate to come, so out of your mind with lust that you'll agree to anything."

How had Dean missed that Sam was pretty much there already? Sam thought to himself.

"When I think you want this, want _me_, enough, I am going to slam into you so hard that you'll be feeling it for weeks. And you're going to come for me, aren't you Sam? That first thrust will make you come so hard you see stars…and I'm going to keep fucking you. I'm going to fuck you through your orgasm, through the aftershocks and the pain of over-stimulation and maybe you'll come again, maybe you won't by the time I'm done."

And that was _it_. Sam's brain clicked off at the promise in Dean's voice.

Dean began to move his hips in gentle teasing thrusts against Sam's. Sam whimpered and tried to thrust back, tried to get more friction but Dean kept backing away and denying Sam.

"You want this? You want me fucking you open? You want to come, want to paint me with it?"

Sam could only moan and think _yesyesyesyesyesyes_. Dean nodded against his neck.

"Then wake up and take it, Sam. Open your eyes and fuck yourself on my cock. Wake up and untie me and I will pound you through the mattress, I promise you. I know you want it, Sam. So take it."

_I have to wake up_, Sam thought. _I have to wake up_. But then he experienced one of those moments that sometimes happens where he became aware the fact that he was asleep while still dreaming.

"Wait…that means I'm asleep," he said as he pulled Dean's fingers out of his mouth. "That means this isn't real."

* * *

End of Chapter Nine 


	10. Ten of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (10/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Note: So I'm going to be gone through the end of March and I thought I'd propose something. Anyone who reviews this story by March 31 will get a drabble, provided they give me at least a single-word prompt. So hit me with a person, place, thing, name, sound, smell, touch, taste, or sight…whatever tickles your fancy! As always, thank you for reading. I am lucky to have you here.

* * *

Chapter Ten

* * *

And just like that Sam snapped awake and was amazed that he hadn't actually come, given how hard he was. Following that realization was that not only was Dean sucking what felt like a huge hickey into the skin of his neck but that Sam had twisted himself in his sleep to make it easier for Dean to do so.

"Oh goddamn, Dean, I am seriously going to kill you," he moaned even as he arched into the touch. It was impossible that it felt better than in his dream…at least it should have been impossible…but it was amazing and Sam lost his will to resist.

He reached back and grabbed Dean, who moaned his approval at the contact loudly. Sam gave in for another moment before he found the strength to pull away. Dean held on as long as he could and Sam almost collapsed back onto him.

"Fuck!" Dean yelled when Sam managed to break their contact. "Son of a bitch, Sam! Just fuck me already!"

Sam wavered, the ill feelings of the past couple days returning full force until he had to close his eyes and focus on breathing in and out.

"Sam!"

Sam shook his head and was caught off guard when Dean started to thrash, pulling at the bindings in earnest. He fell forward and caught himself before he hit Dean. He opened his eyes and had just enough time to blink before Dean delivered a head butt that knocked him off the bed and into the nightstand. He had a moment's worth of intense pain before he blacked out.

He heard Dean's troubled voice calling out to him after what he could only assume was countless hours.

"Sammy? Sammy! Wake up, dude, you're freaking me out here."

Sam managed a grunt as he gingerly opened an eye.

"Sammy? Oh thank goodness. You had me worried that you had turned into Rip Van Winkle or something," Dean strove for a light tone but he was doing a crap job of it.

"Yeah well that happens when you head butt me, you jerk," he retorted as he made it to his hands and knees. He felt sick again and could only hope that he could make it in time.

"Is that why my head hurts? I was wondering."

Sam ignored Dean's calls as he crawled into the bathroom. Once he was sure there was no way he would be throwing up again anytime soon he managed to regain his feet. After he brushed his teeth he steadied himself he made his way back into the room, where he was relieved to see Dean's worried gaze on him. No more creepy whiteness meant that Dean was back to normal.

"Did I give you a concussion, Sammy?"

"No," he sighed. "I just have the flu or something. I don't see how I can keep throwing up when I haven't eaten in days."

"Come untie me and I'll get you some medicine," Dean said and Sam went to find a knife.

As soon as his hands were free and he'd rubbed some semblance of feeling back into his wrists Dean got up and found some pain killers for Sam, who had managed to get himself in bed by the time Dean came back with a glass of water and an ice pack.

Once Sam had taken the pills and settled himself down Dean raised a cautious hand to Sam's head, feeling the bump that had formed. He threaded his fingers through Sam's hair, feeling for any other bumps. Sam felt the gentle touch calm him, freeing him of some of the worry that had befallen him. Dean pulled back when he found the other one and Sam winced.

"What's that from, Sammy?"

"When you head butted me I fell off the bed and hit the nightstand."

Dean looked away.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Sam shrugged as best he could.

"S'okay. I knew you weren't yourself."

Dean brushed Sam's bangs off his forehead and put the ice pack on the bump, making a note to make up another one for the back of Sam's head too. Sam sighed in contentment, the ice doing wonderful things for the pain.

"Your hands are cold," Sam informed him with a small smile.

"Sorry."

"No need. Made my fever feel better. It's why I got in bed with you in the first place," Sam told him and Dean was pretty clueless what Sam was referring to but he decided to talk to his brother after he'd gotten some obviously much-needed sleep.

"I need to shower, Sammy. I'll come back and check on you when I'm done, okay?"

Sam frowned.

"No…don't go. Just stay and talk to me."

"Sammy, you should sleep. We can talk when you wake up again, okay? I'll stay right here until you fall asleep."

Sam nodded and yawned, burrowing into the pillow. Dean sat with him until his breathing evened out and he was sound asleep. As he got up and began to rummage for clean clothes he reflected on his experience.

Coming out of the influence of the incubi bite was unlike anything Dean had ever experienced. His whole body thrummed with lust and it was actually painful to move. All he could think about was getting off, preferably with help but without if he had to make do. But as soon as he saw Sam laying on the ground out cold everything else flew out of his mind and body except for terror.

So as soon as Dean stepped into the shower he let all the feelings he'd been keeping at bay free reign and chief among those was arousal. He jerked himself off rough and quick, and his orgasm left him feeling completely wiped out.

Once he got out of the shower Dean struggled to remember what had happened while he was under the sway of the bite but no matter what all he could remember were sensations. He remembered alternating between feeling aroused beyond reason and frustrated. He thought he might have been dreaming at one point but he wasn't sure. Some kind of music, some song that he thought he should know was dancing at the edge of his consciousness but after a while he resolved to just let it come to him naturally.

Speaking of dreaming he should try and get some shut eye himself, now that Sam was out for the count. He went into the kitchen and made up another ice pack and Sam twitched slightly when Dean maneuvered it under his head, but he didn't awaken until Dean moved away from the bed.

"Dean?" he called, reaching a hand out. Dean came back into Sam's line of sight.

"I'm here, Sammy," he hushed, letting Sam's hand come to rest on his leg. Sam fisted his fingers in Dean's boxers and he tugged.

"Sleep here in case something happens," Sam demanded and Dean had to swallow a laugh as he disentangled Sam's fingers, which moved to his waist once Dean was in bed. Setting the alarm for when Sam was due for more medicine Dean fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.

Over the next week Dean was constantly at Sam's side…every time Sam woke up it was to see Dean watching TV, reading, writing or sleeping. Finally on the eighth day the alarm's incessant blaring is what brought both brothers out of their respective slumbers. When Sam moved to get out of bed Dean waved him back down and went off in search of more medicine. Sam was content to let Dean wait on him for the time being, finally free of the worry that had plagued him since the incubi attack.

"You think you want to try some more solid food today, Sammy?"

Sam nodded and grinned to himself as Dean went into the kitchen…he really was feeling much better, albeit weak. When Dean came back in and adjusted the blankets and pillows around Sam he accepted the coddling with a modicum of fuss. He secretly reveled in the care-giving side of Dean he only saw when he was injured or sick, although it had been a long time since he'd been sick enough around Dean to warrant the attention. He took the pain pills and water handed to him with a grin and felt warmth he'd deny when he saw that Dean had taken the time to make him homemade soup.

As soon as Sam was done with the soup Dean went into the kitchen to clean up and Sam let the domestic sounds of dishes being washed and the leftovers being put away soothe him. The soup filling his belly combined with the pain pills made him feel sleepy, and he looked forward to a nice nap. After Dean came back into the room Sam nodded over to their work area.

"You might as well get the journal out so we can write some of this stuff down before we forget," he suggested through a yawn and Dean pursed his lips but fetched the journal nonetheless.

"I'm afraid I'm not going to have too much to write here, Sammy," Dean confessed with a frown. "It's mostly just feelings."

"What did you feel, Dean?" Sam asked and was fascinated by the blush that crept over Dean's face.

"It was weird. It was like I knew stuff was happening but I couldn't get out of this like blanket of lust to tell what. And it hurt like a son of a bitch. It wasn't awesome at all…it sucked."

Sam went red as Dean's word choice called to mind the dream they had shared, even though Dean didn't remember it. Dean hurriedly scribbled a description of what it had felt like to be under the influence of the bite.

"Okay Sammy, shoot," Dean said, pen held poised over a clean sheet of paper. Sam cleared his throat and looked away from Dean.

"Probably a good idea to mention that whoever has been bitten can connect to a potential victim through their dreams, if they're touching," he announced in as carefree a tone as he could. Dean simply nodded at first and wrote down what Sam had said, but his mouth dropped open when he actually read what he'd written.

"What?" Dean asked, dropping the pen.

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, uh, you were in my dream the last night."

Dean let that fester for a moment. He had some knowledge of having been dreaming but he couldn't remember anything beyond the sensations of being really horny and frustrated. Although that pretty much characterized the entire incubi experience. And that damned song. He shook his head, reminding himself to ask Sam about the song, and addressed Sam.

"How?"

"Like I said, I think it's because we were touching that it could happen."

Dean took that information in while Sam kept talking.

"It was bothering me but I didn't know what 'it' was. If I had been thinking more clearly I would have figured it out…I should have figured it out," he berated himself.

* * *

End of chapter ten 


	11. Eleven of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (11/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Note: Thank you to those of you who reviewed in my absence. Even if you didn't give me a prompt I wrote you a drabble anyway. For those who did give me a prompt you got a double drabble as a thank you! Thanks as always for those who read this story…glad to have you following it.

* * *

"What Sam? What are you talking about?" Dean asked, distracted from asking Sam to tell him about the dream.

Sam stayed in his own head for another minute before sighing.

"You weren't all over me, or even trying to be all over me," he said with a blush. "When I was feeling really sick I told you I thought I should sleep and you agreed with me, which struck me as odd but I was so out of it I didn't catch on to why it was so odd. Well obviously I should have realized that you had an agenda. But I listened to you when you said I should just sleep next to you, that I would be closer to the bathroom and if something happened to you I would be right there in case you needed me."

"You were expecting an overtly sexual attack of some kind," Dean said with a nod.

"You'd tried it before, right when I got really sick so I guess you figured that if it didn't work then that you needed to change your strategy."

"I what?!" Dean asked in horror.

"No! No! You didn't attack me, Dean," Sam insisted, sending his brother an apologetic glance. "Sorry. I meant you were overtly sexual with me at first but I made it clear that wasn't going to work. I think the throwing up helped convince you of that more than anything else."

Dean snorted.

"So what did I do?"

"Once I fell asleep you woke me up and told me to scoot closer to you. I didn't want to fight so I did. Then you were radiating this chill, and I was so hot, it felt so nice, made me feel so much better. You told me to take advantage of it—"

"So my master plan was to _snuggle_ with you?" Dean interrupted, and Sam laughed at the look of indignation on Dean's face. Clearly Dean thought he should have had something more devious up his sleeve.

"I guess so. Once we were touching you were able to come into my dream and you tried to convince me that I wanted to uh…" Sam broke off and looked away, hoping that he could gloss over this part and Dean would still understand, "But I realized I was dreaming and I woke up and broke away from you and then you got pissed and head butted me. End of story."

Dean closed the journal and put it back, and as he went into the kitchen Sam could hear him opening the refrigerator and some cupboards. Thankfully Dean seemed willing to just take Sam's statement at face value, although Sam had the feeling that once he was feeling 100 Dean would ask him more about the dream. When Dean came out with a shot glass, a bottle of Jack and a beer Sam sat up.

"Me too, Dean," he said and Dean shook his head.

"You're sick, Sammy. And with the pain pills I don't think alcohol is going to help."

"I feel much better today. Just one beer, Dean. Please?" Sam pleaded. "We always toast the end of a hunt."

And they did, even if it didn't happen immediately after the hunt was through they made a point of it. In fact it was when Dean had unexpectedly toasted the end of the hunt with Dr. Ellicott that Sam knew they were on the road to recovery. Dean rolled his eyes and went back into the kitchen and when he returned and handed Sam the beer he grinned.

"Don't blame me when you're feeling all nasty later, okay?"

Sam nodded and waited to drink until Dean had taken his shot and raised his beer bottle to Sam's.

"To the end of another successful hunt. Thanks to whatever deity kept us from getting killed this time."

"And may we never see another incubi as long as we live," Sam added.

As the alcohol poured down his throat Sam thought that everything would be all right as long as Dean never found out about the hickey. While he finished the beer he thought of all the clothes he could wear that would hide it and how he'd have to time getting dressed and the like.

He had chugged the beer without meaning to and he shook his head, knowing he was going to pay for it. The lack of quantity of food in his system paired with the pain pills were going to make him totally loopy. Once he started feeling the effects of the alcohol he handed Dean his empty bottle and scooted himself back into the pillows.

And whoa, now he was really feeling it. His head felt spinny and he closed his eyes. He felt Dean sit next to him as he arranged the blankets over Sam's form and he smiled. Dean was always taking care of him, even when Sam protested.

Although he didn't exactly _take care_ of Sam in the dream, he mused and Sam snorted a laugh at his own humor. Being that frustrated was probably what should have clued Sam in to the fact that he was dreaming, he told himself but then decided that all that mattered was he had actually realized he was dreaming.

"You okay little brother?" Dean asked, smiling at how quickly Sam had fallen under the combination of too little food and controlled substances.

"Knew it was a dream," Sam mumbled and Dean decided to humor him. A half-baked Sam could potentially provide a goldmine of blackmail material.

"Oh yeah? How's that, Sammy?"

Sam snorted as if the answer was obvious.

"Lots of ways."

Dean waited for a moment but it appeared that Sam had succumbed to the pain pills again. Just as he stood up Sam opened his eyes and spoke again.

"You wouldn't kiss me," he said and Dean sat back down sharply, eyes wide.

Sam must be talking about the dream the incubus bite had given him. Dean had thought they were just going to pretend that it had never happened…at least that was the plan until Sam was feeling better. He was willing to let it go while Sam was sick but the interesting shade of red Sam had turned giving the brief details begged an explanation.

He had written in the journal that incubi bites caused the host to be able to connect to a potential victim through dreams if they were touching, but without an explanation of how they had come across that knowledge.

As it was the details of the dream were pretty fuzzy for Dean…it was more feelings than anything else. So maybe it was tamer than he had thought? After all, if he hadn't even kissed Sam in the dream…

His train of thought was broken by Sam's next mutterings.

"And you wouldn't let me come," he pouted and Dean had to bite back a grin at how annoyed Sam seemed, even as he struggled with whether or not to allow the conversation to continue. After all, once he was back to 100 Sam might not be all that happy with having shared this with Dean. But Sam spoke up again before Dean could say anything.

"You didn't call me Sammy," he told him, his eyes fever bright. "Not one time once you were under the bite." He nodded his head in exaggerated slowness. "That's a big one. Couldn't see you not calling me Sammy."

Dean nodded.

"That's pretty observant of you."

Sam smiled a toothy grin.

"Thanks, Dean."

Dean shook his head, amused at how happy the simple praise seemed to make his brother.

"Maybe I should just let you get some rest now, Sammy."

"Not yet, Dean. I'm not ready yet," Sam persisted, and Dean coughed to cover his laugh. It was the same thing Sammy always said when he was overly tired, had been since Dean could remember. He knew Sam would fall asleep within moments so he kept talking.

"So it was a bad dream, then?" he asked.

Sam shook his head and frowned up at him.

"I wanted it. I wanted everything…you kept telling me you wanted, too…but you don't really want it," Sam said with a sigh.

Dean decided that the drugs had really kicked in as Sam was making no kinds of sense.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he told him, "I'm sorry I gave you a bad dream."

"Not bad," Sam insisted, his eyes falling shut for a moment. "Not bad, Dean. I liked the way your fingers felt. That part was good…really good."

Dean's brain helpfully supplied him with about a thousand things his fingers could have done to Sam that would hopefully make him feel good.

"You just kept teasing me," Sam said with a frown as he opened his eyes. "And I was open and ready but then you said I had to wake up and take it from you and I knew that it wasn't you for sure."

Dean blushed at the implications of what Sam was saying, even though only part of it made sense.

"I told you you had to wake up and take it from me?" he asked and Sam nodded.

"But you wouldn't do that, Dean. We talked about that and you wouldn't do that to me," Sam said through a yawn, his eyes falling shut again.

"What wouldn't I do?" Dean prodded.

"You wouldn't do it just because you thought I wanted it. You promised me," Sam said in a solemn tone, but then he scrunched up his face. "Wait. Did you promise me that, Dean?"

"If I didn't then I will now, Sammy. Do you want me to promise I won't do anything just because you want to do it?"

Sam peered up at him and Dean blinked as Sam's eyes filled with tears.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"No Sammy, I'm not. I swear."

But Sam shook his head and turned away from Dean.

"You're making fun of me because I liked it and you didn't and you think it's funny."

Dean gently tugged Sam back to face him. Sam kept his eyes averted as Dean spoke.

"Sammy I wasn't really there, remember? So I don't know what I did or didn't do in the dream. But as far as you liking it I'm not making fun of you for that."

Sam lifted hesitant eyes to Dean and he searched his brother's gaze, eventually nodding.

"Okay."

"Sammy…" Dean began and then he broke off, obviously struggling with what he wanted to say. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I mean…I didn't force you to do anything, did I?"

Sam giggled, sounding for all the world like a seven-year-old.

"Never, Dean. You'd rather cut off your arm than hurt me, right?" Sam announced as he looped his arm over Dean's legs and squeezed.

Dean nodded; more pleased than he cared to admit that at least on some level Sam recognized that unalterable fact. He was about to ask Sam for more details but as he looked down he saw that Sam had fallen asleep so he gently lifted Sam's arm off and took the stuff into the kitchen to rinse out.

* * *

End of Chapter Eleven


	12. Twelve of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (12/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Note: I do appreciate each and every person who reads this story. I hope that those of you who are following this enjoy the story, and thanks again to those of you who have written, be it a review or a PM. I always am grateful for the contact.

* * *

The next day when Sam woke up he rubbed his face and as he scratched his fingers through the scruff on his jaw he decided that he could do with a shave and a shower. He had a vague memory of talking to Dean while he was tipsy but he figured if it was anything he needed to know Dean would tell him. And since Dean decided that anything worth teasing Sam over was definitely something Sam needed to hear he knew he wouldn't get away without being embarrassed if at all possible.

"Dean?" he called out, pulling the covers up to his chin to hide the hickey. Dean wandered into the room, book in hand.

"What's up?"

"I'm going to take a quick shower. Do we need to go to the store or anything today? I think I could do with some fresh air."

Dean nodded.

"Sure thing. I'll just finish this chapter and we'll make a supply run, okay?"

Sam felt more human than he had in a couple of weeks as he scrubbed himself clean. Stepping out of the shower he knotted a towel around his waist and began to shave, looking less Grizzly Adams and more Sam Winchester with every swipe of the blade.

"Sam? Have you seen my jacket?" Dean's voice came through the door and Sam thought for a moment as he rinsed off the shaving cream.

"Back of the kitchen chair, maybe?" he yelled back and then remembered that Dean had left it in the Impala before they had gone into the incubi's lair and thus it was probably still there, assuming Dean hadn't driven anywhere since then. He opened the door to shout again but found Dean on his way into the bedroom, most likely to tell Sam that the jacket wasn't there.

"I think your jacket's still in the Impala," he told him but Dean wasn't listening. He wasn't even looking at Sam. Well technically he was…he just wasn't making eye contact.

He was staring at the hickey.

"What the hell happened, Sam?"

"Oh, uh," Sam stammered, unable to believe he'd been that stupid. Dean was never supposed to see it. Sam had spent all that time trying to figure out how to make sure Dean never saw it, and yet he had failed to come up with a plan in case Dean ever did, and now he was paying for it.

He turned around and went back into the bathroom, intending to close and lock the door and give himself some time to think while he put on his clothes.

"Sam, it looks like a really deep hickey. What is it?" Dean asked, following him into the bathroom as if Sam wasn't trying to shut the door in his face. "And don't try and tell me it's nothing because you don't pull a deer in headlights when it's nothing."

Well shit. Racking his brain provided no other answer aside from the truth so Sam decided to just let it fly. How bad could it be? They were currently thinking about starting a relationship, right? So maybe Dean's reaction would give Sam an unexpected clue as to Dean's feelings on that subject.

"Actually, Dean, it _is_ a hickey."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sure, Sam. Because we've been together 24/7 except for the time when you snuck out for an hour to get a hickey. Please. It's just been you and me and…" Dean trailed off and his eyes widened when Sam looked away. "Oh my god, Sam. Did _I_ do that?"

Sam nodded and Dean lifted his hand and took a step towards Sam before he realized what he was doing. Sam caught the movements and looked at Dean, who froze when he felt Sam's gaze. As he studied his reactions he realized Dean's eyes were positively riveted to the mark, and it was as if he were completely enthralled, yet embarrassed that he let Sam see the fascination.

But he hadn't dropped his hand. Whether or not he consciously was aware of it he wanted to touch, to connect with what he'd done. He hadn't run away, or even backed away, so he wasn't overcome with disgust. Sam decided to take a chance. He turned his head so his cheek was resting against the tile and closed his eyes, offering the marked skin for Dean's inspection.

As soon as he recognized what Sam was doing Dean bit his lip and came up close. He reached his hand out again and lightly traced the surface of the mark. Sam's breath hitched for a moment and his cheeks infused with color but otherwise he gave no other recognition of Dean's movements on his skin.

Rarely did Dean take the time with his conquests to mark them, and never before like this. The people he was with weren't ones he ever thought about marking up as his own, and any bruises were completely incidental.

But this…

This was intent. This was wanting to leave a tangible sign that he was here, that he had been with Sam. The mark on Sam's skin would last for weeks still. It was so dark it was almost black, and it was one of the hottest fucking things Dean had ever seen. The time he had spent must have been…Dean's head snapped up.

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean breathed out. "How long was I doing this for?"

"I don't know," Sam whispered and sensing that Dean was freaking out he hurried to assure him. "But it's okay. It's not like you remember it or anything so just forget about it."

Dean was about to berate Sam for such an idiotic suggestion when he took in what Sam had actually said. Sam had said that _Dean _didn't remember…which meant that _Sam_ did.

"You remember me doing this to you," he stated and after a moment Sam nodded.

"Tell me," Dean commanded and Sam hesitated but eventually started to speak.

"When I came out of the dream you were doing it so it must have been sometime during it or before it that you started."

Dean's gaze turned considering and Sam easily read the question in his eyes.

"Remember how I said we connected because we were touching? Well I think this is how you were able to be in my dreams that night."

Dean stared at the mark for what felt like an eternity while Sam had a faint memory of Dean kissing the back of his neck before he fell asleep. Did that really happen? He wasn't sure. His attention moved back to Dean when he saw that he'd dropped his head and was shaking it back and forth.

"Damn, Sammy. I—" he began but Sam hurried to cut him off, not wanting Dean to feel guilty, especially over something that Sam had enjoyed, even though that enjoyment was tempered by the knowledge that it wasn't really Dean doing it.

"You don't have to apologize or anything, Dean, really."

Sam sure was anxious for Dean to drop this, and Dean wondered if it was because he found the whole experience uncomfortable, if maybe this whole incubi thing had given Sam second thoughts about being with Dean.

Well one of them was going to have to say something that tested the waters sooner or later and Dean had already told Sam he was of the sooner school so he laughed a bit self-consciously and looked up at Sam, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I wasn't going to say that, Sammy."

"No?"

Dean shook his head.

"No. What I was _going_ to say was that I wish I remembered, because I'm pretty sure that the memory of doing that would be enough to get me off for at least a month."

As his voice tapered off into a whisper at the end of sentence he reached up and pressed the pad of his thumb into the mark, almost too lightly to be felt but from the way Sam's whole body shuddered when he did it, he was well aware of it.

"God, Dean," Sam whispered as his eyes fell shut.

Dean lost himself for a few moments as he traced and re-traced the mark, ending each pass with a gentle press into the center. He rested his other hand on the wall by Sam's hip and stared at the spot until he was sure he had it memorized.

"God I just want to mark you up," Dean murmured and Sam could hear how amazed Dean was by that notion.

"Don't tease," Sam croaked out in a broken voice and Dean was snapped out of his daze.

"Tease?" he asked and Sam blushed scarlet.

But then Dean looked down and saw how very much Sam did not mind the idea of Dean marking him.

"Oh Sammy," he tsked softly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?" Sam asked, brow crinkling in confusion.

But Dean just kept speaking as if Sam had not interrupted.

"I mean it's one thing for me to really like the idea, but knowing that not only would you probably be okay with wearing my marks on your body but that you'd get off on it, too? That's dangerous, is what that is…" and he trailed off and looked away.

Sam thought that was probably as good an appellation as any for what was happening here. It was one thing to talk in hypotheticals and to bring up some vague notion of the two of them together. But to be standing here, barely more than a breath apart, turned on because of the other (and Sam's quick glance assured him he wasn't alone in that department) was quite altogether different.

Sam found himself feeling some of that desire for a connection that Dean had felt upon seeing the mark, but now he wanted to connect with Dean in this moment, in this realization that they had taken a step neither had consciously meant to. He knew if he could just feel like he wasn't alone, that Dean was with him in this, then everything would be okay.

Which he recognized as vaguely ridiculous, since Dean was sharing the same breathing space, but Dean had his head turned away and he was lost in his own thoughts. So Sam turned the hand that was lying next to Dean's over and gently inserted his thumb between Dean's and the wall.

Dean's gaze snapped back to Sam at the contact and for long moments all they did was look at each other. Sam watched the emotions swirl in Dean's gaze in fascination, knowing the same were mirrored in his own expression. Sam was hyper aware of Dean, of how close they stood, how his breathing was in sync with Sam's own, and suddenly he realized that their pulses were in sync as well. He could feel them beating through their joined thumbs.

He smiled at Dean and pressed his thumb up and Dean looked confused for a moment. Sam could see the moment the realization hit Dean and then Dean grinned at him and shook his head, saying _'Could you be more of a girl?'_ without words.

But then Dean's gaze fell on the hickey again and Sam's breath caught when he felt Dean's pulse kick up.

"Because I'm not supposed to want to do it again," Dean suddenly continued as if he hadn't stopped speaking. "I'm not supposed to want that. I'm not supposed to want to see that mark on you day after day after day. I—" he broke off and stepped away from Sam, turning his back and leaning forward onto the sink, letting his head drop.

Sam let him be for a moment before he took a tentative step toward his brother.

"What is it, Dean? What's wrong?"

* * *

End of Chapter Twelve


	13. Thirteen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (13/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Note: I continue to be just amazed by the reviews and PMs I receive. I am so very lucky…thank you all!! On a side note I already have two side stories in this 'verse in the works, and they're both PWPs with a little side helping of plot because I can't seem to shake the plot bunnies.

On to the chapter…

* * *

Dean shook his head and Sam thought that he wasn't going to answer but he turned himself around.

"You know, once upon a time I never would have had a thought like that about you," he said with a small grin, which Sam returned as he nodded, all too aware of it himself.

"But maybe all this," Dean gestured between them, becoming serious again. "Maybe it's all been brought up because of the incubi bite and stuff."

"What are you saying?" Sam asked, a feeling of dread building in the pit of his stomach. Dean scrubbed down his face with his palms.

"I'm saying maybe all these thoughts and stuff are happening because of what the incubi did, and because we've been each other's only companions for so long, and we've isolated ourselves so much that.." he trailed off, unsure how to explain to Sam what he was feeling without admitting how scared this whole thing made him.

Sam took in Dean's body language. Bastard was twitchy as hell, like he had a hot potato in his pants. He kept shuffling from one foot to the other. It looked like he was waiting for the right moment before he out and out bolted from the room, maybe from the house, too.

And suddenly Sam realized that he was right. Whether consciously or not Dean was fighting the impulse to leave. To flee.

Fight-or-flight and his brother, his hero, was choosing flight?

That scared Sam, because he understood at once that it meant Dean was scared, too. And things that scared Dean? Fucking _terrified_ Sam.

"Talk to me, Dean…please," Sam begged, knowing that silence would not lead to anything good but if they could just talk then they could work through whatever this was.

"This isn't normal, Sam," Dean finally muttered. "You know that, right?"

Sam gave Dean a watery grin.

"Isn't that my line?"

Dean almost managed a smirk but he was terrified that even bringing up the concept of normal was going to make Sam suddenly remember what he was contemplating giving up.

"So why aren't you saying it?" Dean asked in a soft voice.

Sam shrugged.

"I know up here—" he began, pointing to his temple, "that I should think this is so far left of normal that we should never even consider it but—" he broke off to shrug helplessly, "It doesn't _feel_ like something bad. Thinking about it doesn't make me feel bad, or evil, or disgusted."

Something lurched in Dean's chest at that admission and his fear intensified. He'd been so sure that Sam would decide that normal was what he wanted—that he was secretly waiting for Dean to push the issue. But Sam's denial meant—could it actually mean that he wanted to be with Dean?

There was no way Sam had thought this whole thing through. No way he could actually want to be with Dean, could be choosing Dean over anyone else.

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean said hesitantly and Sam's fear washed over him unexpectedly.

"So what, you want to leave or something?" Sam choked out, not knowing he was going to say it until the words were out.

Dean whipped his gaze up in shock before his features filled with anguish and he looked away.

"It may not be such a bad idea, Sammy."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing and it made him angry.

"Instead of taking the chance that we could make each other happy for the rest of our lives you would rather just abandon me forever?"

The shock returned to Dean's face and he didn't say anything for a long while. When he did speak it was in a voice that sounded as raw and broken as Sam had ever heard.

"No! Not forever, Sammy. I don't think you get what I'm saying here." His gaze pierced through Sam. "We mess this up and it's over…forever. God! Sam…I can't even put into _words_ how much I don't want that to happen!"

Sam began to calm down a bit, somewhat mollified by what he was hearing. He gave Dean time to think and took some himself, rolling over what had been said and what he could offer as a way out for them. He walked out into the bedroom and Dean followed him.

"So we do a trial run," he finally said and Dean looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean? We date for a while or something?"

Sam shook his head.

"Just the opposite. We cut each other out entirely."

Dean's eyes widened and Sam plowed on.

"I mean, I think it's the best way. We're both scared that if we do this and somehow things just get snafu-ed beyond all salvageable hope then we'll lose each other for the rest of our lives. So we need to understand what that would feel like."

Dean began to pace slowly as he let the concept take root.

"If we start to date then I think it'd be too easy to just think that we'll never fall apart, that everything will work out. We need to know what we're up against in case we do fall apart."

Dean stopped pacing and faced Sam.

"So what, we'd each go somewhere for a few months and only talk like once a week or something?"

Sam looked away.

"No communication during that whole time."

Dean's jaw dropped.

"What?"

"If the idea is for us to try and see what it'd be like to be without the other, really without each other, then we can't talk. Otherwise we're taking for granted that we're going to be there and that may not be the case, you said so yourself. We mess this up we lose each other forever. So we can't shortcut this, Dean. In for a penny, in for a pound. No communication of any kind starting the moment you leave until exactly…" he hedged for a moment, "…three months later."

"Three months?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged.

"I think that's a long time, Dean. Long enough to know. Why…do you want it to be longer?" Sam asked and he held his breath, praying that it wasn't the case.

Dean shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet. Three months? It was going to feel like eternity. He and Sam hadn't spent more than a handful of nights apart in god knows how long since Stanford. He knew without having to experience it that this was going to be worse than Stanford, because there were different feelings this time.

They could separate for the allotted three months and Sam could decide he didn't want to keep living with Dean after all. Dean supposed that he too could come to that decision during their time apart but it didn't seem very likely. What did seem likely was that Dean was going to miss Sam so much that if Sam chose not to keep living with Dean it would break him.

"And I know I have no right to ask this of you but I'm going to anyway. I don't want you to hunt during that time," Sam interrupted and Dean shook his head sadly.

"Sammy, you can't ask me to do that. If we're really doing this whole 'what would it be like without each other' thing then we have to do it for real. And really, I would probably fall back into hunting on my own if I didn't have you here."

Sam nodded. He had expected nothing less but already he felt his chest constrict. Just the idea that Dean would be out there, hunting god knows what with no way for Sam to know if he was all right or not…god, what were they doing?

"Are we really going to do this?" Sam asked, not even trying to mask the sound of tears in his voice.

Dean just held his gaze for what felt like forever. He thought it was ironic that this should be the moment he realized he was more in love with Sam than he ever thought he could be. This feeling—this aching, torn, helpless, god-I'll-do-anything-to make-you-happy, sensation—this is what had been missing with Cassie.

Looking at Sam, seeing the agony plainly written on his face, all Dean wanted to do was take it away. But even more than that was the desire to make Sam happy, and he knew that if there was even the slightest chance that Sam would find happiness without Dean in his life that he owed it to Sam to give him that chance.

He couldn't live with himself if they decided to have a relationship and it blew up in their faces and he lost Sam. All the pain they would both feel during the separation would be worth it if in the end they were sure about their paths, whether or not those paths intertwined.

Dean summoned all the courage he had ever possessed and nodded once.

Sam collapsed onto the bed, legs having given out on him unexpectedly. He moved his gaze to his feet and tried not to cry. How did they get here? Once upon a time not having Dean in his life was Sam's reality, but then he had known that if he just picked up the phone Dean would be there. Pissed at him and possibly unwilling to talk beyond a few well-chosen curses but there, nonetheless.

Now they were going to create a void where neither knew if the other would still want to be together, let alone if their brother was still alive.

This was either going to cement his and Dean's relationship and form the bridge to the next level or it was going to tear them apart…maybe completely.

What if Dean got back on the road, back to the cheap hotels and even cheaper sex and decided that while it was cute at the time playing house with Sam wasn't what he wanted after all?

What if Dean found someone who he wanted to build a life with? What if Cassie pulled her head out of her ass and realized that she would never do better than Dean? What if she called and begged him to come back and he did?

Sam was beginning to hyperventilate. This was not a desirable state to be in so he shifted his thoughts away from the what-ifs, telling himself there wasn't a whole lot he could do about them anyway, and on to things he could do something about.

"Ok," he said, standing back up to face Dean. "We need to come up with separate plans for what we're going to do during that time so first we should decide when this whole thing's going to begin and then go from there."

Dean hesitated, the voice in his head screaming at him to just throw away this whole plan, tell Sam that he just wanted to stay with him forever. But he pushed it aside and took the plunge.

"How about two weeks?" he suggested. "That gives us time to make whatever plans we want to."

The next fourteen days may as well have been fourteen minutes for as quickly as they passed for the pair. Dean grabbed his last duffle and turned to face Sam's closed door, staring at it for a moment before he made his way outside. They had decided not to say goodbye to each other, that Dean would leave first and Sam wouldn't send him off or anything, just like they might do one day in the future if things got bad enough.

The minute the door closed behind him he knew he was making a mistake. He half-turned, hand stretched out, but before it closed around the knob he hesitated. This was about doing what was best for Sam, not what Dean wanted. Just because his gut was twisting and he thought he might actually burst into tears as soon as he was out of sight of their house did not change that fact.

He shook his head and squared his shoulders. He'd spent his life sacrificing for Sam…now he could only pray that this latest offering didn't cost him his brother.

Sam stood at the window and watched Dean's struggle. His heart leapt when he saw Dean begin to turn back around, but then it fell when the move was aborted. Why was Dean so damn pig-headed? Although he knew that the answer was Sam himself. Dean saw this whole thing as Sam's chance at the life he still believed his younger brother wanted.

So Sam let Dean go, knowing that the only way to convince Dean he wanted to be with him was to be waiting for him when he came back. As he let the tears Dean wouldn't shed fall he could only pray that he wasn't also letting their chance to be together go as well.

* * *

End of Chapter Thirteen


	14. Fourteen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (14/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Note: Hello and thank you to all who have happened upon this fic, I'm happy to have you reading.

* * *

On to the chapter…

* * *

"If you don't mind me sayin', it seems as though this was a rough night for you."

Dean looked up to see Chuck, his new boss, addressing him as he wiped down the last of the glasses. Dean immediately straightened his posture from the slump he just now realized he had fallen into and Chuck laughed.

"Easy there, boy," he said. "I wasn't referring to your performance. Fact is you done good tonight. I was more referring to your mind bein' somewhere else every chance you got."

Dean looked away, unable to either refute the statement or provide a reasonable reply. Without thinking he began twisting his ring as he thought about how to get a handle on his emotions while he was working. He had gotten a lot of tips and even more phone numbers but every time he found himself face to face with another potential conquest he thought of Sam.

And while he knew that technically he wouldn't be cheating on Sam if he hooked up, and that Sam had encouraged him to take this time to make sure that he didn't want more of the same, it didn't matter. Dean missed him so much that he could barely find it in him to do more than flirt politely, not even tempted to cross the line.

He hadn't thought that his lack of interest would be that noticeable or a problem but hell, if he was getting called on it after one night how much worse would it be as the weeks went by?

"Ah, I see the problem," Chuck announced and Dean turned a sharp gaze to him. Chuck pointed at Dean's ring and he blinked when he saw how he was worrying it around his finger.

"Romantic troubles, eh?" Chuck grinned and Dean hesitated, unsure what to say but Chuck plowed on. "Lemmie guess…she threw you out and you can't stop a-thinkin' 'bout her?"

"Not exactly," Dean hedged. "More like I left because I'm not sure I'm the best choice in the long run and I want both of us to be sure before we make a huge lifetime commitment to each other."

Chuck's eyes widened and he let out a low whistle.

"Damn, boy. I ain't never heard of anyone doin' nothin' like that. I can see you're a novelty. Yessir, a novelty," he concluded as he picked up a tray and carried it to the back room.

Dean broke into a grin as Chuck left. If he was a novelty then he wasn't sure how to classify Chuck. He looked down at his hand again and thought about his ring.

_It was just the two of them that night; their dad had taken off with Pastor Jim earlier in the week._

_"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Dean, Happy Birthday to you!!" Sam sang and Dean grinned. _

_With Sammy's voice changing the notes of the song hit interesting ranges and they both giggled when he stopped. Dean leaned over and blew out the candles on the cake in front of him. Sammy had spent hours baking it while Dean hovered and stole licks of batter and later frosting whenever he could._

_Sammy pulled out a small box wrapped in butcher paper. He had drawn what Dean saw were protection sigils all over its surface._

_"Happy Birthday," he said as he placed it in front of Dean. _

_When Dean opened it he gasped. The ring was…beautiful. It was the only word to describe it. As he picked it up he noted the solid weight. When he inspected it closer he discovered protection runes carved into the band's interior. His gaze snapped to Sam, who was biting his finger nail anxiously. As soon as Dean met his gaze he began to babble._

_"I know you don't really wear rings or anything, and it's probably too girly and maybe I should have stuck with the—" he was cut off by Dean grabbing his wrist and pulling him down until he was awkwardly perched on Dean's leg. _

_"It's perfect, Sammy. Absolutely perfect," Dean assured him with as genuine a smile as Sam had ever seen him sport. Sam threw his arms around Dean and hugged him as tight as he could which, given his recent growth spurt and muscle development, was pretty damn tight but Dean didn't mind and just hugged Sam back that much tighter._

_After a few long moments Sam pulled back and plucked the ring out of Dean's grasp. He grabbed Dean's right hand and slid the ring on with a smile. Dean wiggled his fingers and returned Sam's smile._

_"How's it look, Sammy?"_

_Sam nodded._

_"Really good, Dean. Like it was always there or something," he said and blushed but Dean didn't tease him. As he studied his newly-adorned hand he found that he agreed with Sam and he nodded._

_"So how'd you get this, Sammy?"_

_Sam laughed._

_"Think you're the only one who can hustle pool?"_

_Dean gaped at him for a moment before he broke into laughter and he ruffled Sam's hair before unceremoniously dumping him on the ground._

_"That's my boy!" he crowed but then he became serious. "But I know you hate doing it, especially alone."_

_Sam shrugged._

_"I figured you only turn eighteen once and you're worth it."_

As Dean came back to himself he found that he was again twisting the ring. He wondered if he did it every time he thought of Sam. While Dean twirled the ring around his finger he found that his memory of Sam placing the ring on him had given him a solution to his dilemma and he grinned.

He pulled the ring off his right hand and transferred it to his left.

The next night when he came in and waved hello to Chuck he felt better about everything. Chuck's laughter rang out when he saw what Dean had done.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Dean asked, more out of courtesy than any actual worry.

Chuck shook his head.

"Hell, it'll probably double our business. Women love to flirt with married men, makes 'em feel safer doin' it, knowin' it won't be leadin' to places it ain't supposed to."

Dean nodded and grinned.

"And you won't have to worry 'bout puttin' out any signals aside from the ones that proclaim you to be 100 percent happily spoken for," Chuck continued with a grin. "I reckon you'll do your job even better."

_I am an idiot._ This had become Sam's mantra, his truth. He paced back and forth in the hotel room, unable to release the restless energy that sizzled beneath his skin. For what had to be the thousandth time since he and Dean had parted ways he replayed the conversation that led to it.

He had given Dean an ultimatum. God, how could he have done that? No wonder Dean left!

The what-ifs threatened to swallow Sam whole but he refused to allow them to hold sway over his thoughts. All except one…what if Dean was dead? He shuddered at the thought, reminding himself again that he'd know if Dean were dead. He'd just know.

Resolving to get through the day Sam scooped up the stack of casino chips from the nearby desk and pocketed them. When he got back to the room he would continue practicing control over his powers but for now there was money to be made.

As he waited at the elevator he couldn't help but wish that he'd told Dean he loved him before he walked out the door. Hopefully if things went well he'd have the chance in a few weeks.

Three months may as well have been three years, Dean mused as he said goodbye to Chuck for the last time and left. Although nothing compared to the last hour as he waited and wondered what would happen. He sat at the local diner, his face by now a familiar one, and drank his milkshake and ate his hamburger without tasting either one.

His cell phone was out and next to the plate and Sherry, his favorite waitress, glanced at it quizzically as she brought him the change for his bill.

"That's the first time I've seen you with one of them, hon," she mused. "You expectin' a call?"

Dean nodded absently, pulling out a generous tip for Sherry as he glanced at the phone and tried not to panic.

Maybe Sam wouldn't call. Maybe he'd gone back to Stanford. Maybe he'd found someone else. Maybe he'd already forgotten about Dean. Maybe—

His phone rang.

When he looked at the caller ID his heart tripped over in his chest and he answered before it even got through the first ring.

"Sammy?"

Sam shuddered out a shaky breath and almost burst into tears at the sound of his brother's voice. That slight hitch in the two syllables of his name, just that one word told him everything he wanted to know. Suddenly everything he wanted to say flew out of his head and he could only manage two words.

"Come home."

Dean snapped the phone shut and in seconds was out the door and in the car like the hounds of hell were on his tail. He would never know that his exploits in the small town became the stuff of local legend…When lonely hearts would saddle up to the bar and bemoan their love lives to Chuck he would tell them about the novelty of Dean and Sherry often told of the handsome young man who arrived broken hearted and then disappeared one day without a trace after receiving a phone call. She and the rest of the locals who knew Dean insisted it was his lover, finally calling to say that she was waiting for him.

There was definitely a guardian angel watching over Dean as he broke the speed limit and damn near the sound barrier in his quest to make it to Sam as soon as he could. He cursed his stupidity—why had he chosen to go across the country? And more importantly, why hadn't he quit earlier and begun the trek back sooner so that he would be near Sam when he called?

But he knew that he had forced himself to go across the country so he wouldn't be tempted to go back to Sam—not that he hadn't been tempted pretty much all day every day but this way he had assured himself that Sam had the space he needed. And as for why he hadn't started to make the drive before he heard Sam's voice? Well he could admit that he had been scared Sam wouldn't call…and if Sam had chosen not to call then Dean would not have wanted to be on the same side of the country as his brother.

It struck Dean that Sam had no idea where he was, much less when to expect Dean. So he figured he should probably give Sam the heads-up so he didn't worry. Although maybe he wouldn't worry—maybe he just wanted Dean there so he could tell him in person that he didn't want to be together?

Dean pushed that thought away but decided to text Sam so he wouldn't spend the rest of the drive analyzing the cadence of Sam's voice, trying to figure out what to expect when he made it home.

Sam jumped when his cell phone buzzed and he was puzzled for a minute when he saw that he had a text message from Dean.

_Leaving NY. Will be home in 36._

His heart leapt when he read what it said. That was a trip Dean could only make in that short amount of time if he literally stopped only for gas. Meaning that more likely than not Dean would be arrested for speeding somewhere along the way and Sam would end up having to come and bail him out.

He was so anxious to see Dean and if this attempt at breaking the land speed record meant anything then Dean was anxious to see Sam, too. But as much as it pained him to consider Sam knew he was going to have to tell Dean to slow down, stop to eat and sleep. He carefully contemplated how to phrase the message. After all Dean hadn't called him, so maybe Dean was only anxious to see Sam to say he wanted out and it was best to get it over with quickly?

But he discarded that notion almost as soon as he had thought it. He and Dean may have put up the walls before but that was just that…before. If Dean had truly not wanted to come home to Sam he wouldn't have hesitated to tell Sam that over the phone. It was true he might only want to be brothers but he still wanted to come home.

_I'll laugh if I have to see you in jail so take it easy on your baby and make it here in one piece, okay? Overheating in Idaho isn't all it's cracked up to be and even you can't flirt your way out of every ticket and I want you here safe and sound and non-sleep deprived. 48?_

Dean grinned at the text and patted his baby's dashboard.

"Sammy's thinking of you, girl," Dean said even as he felt a tinge of disappointment at Sam's message, although he was right. It wasn't smart to push the Impala as hard as he planned on…and he made a note to kick Sam's ass for even suggesting there was a cop he couldn't sweet talk if he really put his mind to it.

_Fine…bitch. My baby always knew you loved her, btw. See you in 48._

Sam shook his head and sent his reply.

_48…jerk._

* * *

End of Chapter Fourteen


	15. Fifteen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (15/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Note: I am truly so humbled by the response I continue to get for this fic! Welcome to all the newbies and a warm welcome back to those who have been with me from chapter one, day one.

And in reply to cc's review, to which I could not reply offline: I hope that you've read chapter fourteen at this point and have found that indeed their time apart has been drastically cut down. I do not want you to explode so I will endeavor to not let that happen. It makes me smile that you're so anxious for the action to begin. Thanks for writing! I appreciated it!

And in reply to kristy's review, to which I could not reply offline: I am so sorry I made you curse, I try not to do that! Sorry for the chapter confusion, hopefully that will not persist. Thank you for your kind words and encouragement! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

On to the chapter…

* * *

As soon as he came through the door Dean called out.

"Sammy? I'm home."

And when Sam appeared in the doorway each brother spent countless moments drinking in the other's appearance. Dean was only able to take a single step forward before he found himself in a bone-crushing hug.

"I missed you so much! I'm so happy you're here. I'm so happy. So happy. So happy," Sam repeated as he held on.

"Me too, Sammy. Me too," Dean assured him in a voice heavy with emotions.

Seeing Dean made Sam flash back to being little and having Dean go missing on a hunt with their dad. The relief he felt at seeing his brother alive and well then was overpowered by the relief he felt now. But he knew it was his own fault that Dean left and he suddenly gasped and pulled back, desperate to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll never do it again. Just please don't leave like that ever, Dean. Ok?" Sam babbled, sounding much younger than his two-plus decades. "Never ever."

"Shh, Sammy, I'm not going anywhere," Dean soothed, going with his first instinct when faced with a freaked-out younger brother. Sam nodded into his shoulder and held on tighter.

"Promise?" Sam asked and Dean nodded, and then pulled away slightly so he could meet Sam's eyes.

"Now tell me what's going on? What are you apologizing for?"

Sam sniffed but refused to let go of Dean.

"I know what you were trying to tell me and it's okay, Dean. I should have seen that you didn't want that and I shouldn't have made you feel like you had to leave me."

Dean tried to blink away his confusion and work his way through Sam's words but he settled on asking for clarification.

"Let's make sure we're both on the same page. What do you think I don't want?"

"A relationship. Er, a different one. You know," Sam gestured vaguely, no longer meeting Dean's eyes. "And I'm sorry I made you feel like I was forcing you to choose between that or nothing at all. If you want us to just be brothers forever then I can do that, Dean. I won't ever bring it up again, I promise."

Sam looked at Dean as he finished speaking and Dean could tell by the earnest expression that Sam meant every word. Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Apparently he had failed to make everything crystal clear. He shook his head as he berated himself—if he had just been straight with Sam instead of side-stepping the issue Sam would not have wasted a single moment thinking that all Dean wanted was to be away from Sam.

"You think I wanted us to spend time apart because I don't want to be with you?"

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean didn't realize that he'd even missed that expression until Sam was doing it.

"Well _duh_. I mean, I'm such an idiot. I just gave you an ultimatum instead of seeing where you were on the whole subject. I was all 'either we do this or you leave' pretty much."

Dean shook his head and gave Sam a rueful grin.

"Sam, I wanted to give us both some perspective on this whole thing and I thought that it would be best if we weren't together, because…" he trailed off, all too aware that he was on the precipice here. He was so close to admitting the core of his uncertainty and it scared him.

"Why, Dean?" Sam whispered, feeling the meaningful nature of the moment envelop him.

"Because I'm not supposed to want to be with you like that, and I'm supposed to make sure you're safe, that nothing happens to you!" Dean exploded. "But we do this and I could really hurt you, Sam. I could end up destroying everything I have spent my life living for!"

Sam gaped for a moment before he spoke.

"But you do, right? You do want to be with me like that? I mean, you always keep me safe too," he hastened to add when Dean gave him a look that told him he thought Sam was bypassing the important part of his statement.

Dean broke away from Sam so he could pace.

"You said you'd know if I was doing it for the wrong reasons. And all I have in the way of reasons is not wanting to see you hurt, especially by me. So I thought it was best to go away, let you realize that for yourself," Dean admitted in a rough voice. Sam didn't hesitate to pull Dean back into his arms.

"The only thing I realized when you went away was that I shouldn't have let you go anywhere without me," Sam assured him.

Dean wasn't totally convinced that Sam shouldn't have failed to come to the realization that he was better off not having Dean as anything besides his brother but he let the conviction in Sam's voice soothe him.

Were they actually going to do this? During the journey home all Dean had been able to think was that Sam wanted him there. He didn't dare think in what capacity. But now he realized that he was on uneven ground. Given the disaster his last attempt at navigating similar waters had been he decided to bite the bullet and just tell Sam how he was feeling.

"I'm not used to this, Sam," Dean explained as he made eye contact again. "I mean the last time I even considered something like this was with Cassie and yeah, _so_ not the model for functional relationships."

Sam nodded and rubbed small circles over Dean's back, trying to convey support as Dean worked through what he wanted to say.

"I sound like a freakin' high school virgin or something," Dean huffed and crossed his arms and Sam tilted his head as he considered the notion. Not that he could picture Dean as a virgin…heck he barely remembered a time when that was the case. But more that suddenly it came to him that Dean was a sort of virgin, at least as far as relationships went.

And upon the heels of that revelation was another one. Dean had never been in a relationship long enough to really know someone inside and out—at least sexually speaking. Because Sam figured that Dean knew as much about him as he himself knew about Dean, minus a few things that they'd still get to learn about the other.

But Dean didn't have anyone who knew everything there was to know when they were his lover. No one knew every single place on his body that would make him light up. No one knew how many sounds it was possible to wring out of him. No one knew…but Sam would.

Looking back he never knew why it was that exact moment that he chanced a glance at Dean's hands. His eyes opened as wide as they'd ever been when he saw that Dean had moved his ring and he couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Your ring," he choked out and Dean looked down in confusion for a second and then to Sam's eternal delight he blushed. "Why'd you move it, Dean?"

Dean scratched the back of his head as he pulled out of Sam's arms and walked into the bedroom. Sam followed and leaned against the door jamb.

"I had a job as a bartender," Dean began. "And at the end of the first night I worked my boss caught on that I wasn't 100 there. Said he could tell that my mind was elsewhere, reckoned it was a broken heart that had me lost in my own thoughts."

When he looked up he noted Sam's quizzical expression and it made him grin, slightly.

"I didn't feel like telling him the whole story, but what he said was partly the truth."

Sam's heart skipped a beat.

"It was?" he whispered and Dean nodded, looking away again.

"I got a lot of tips and a lot of phone numbers that first night, Sammy," he said and missed the look of heartbreak on Sam's face. "But it didn't matter because all I could think about was you, and how I'd made such a huge mistake leaving."

Sam exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"I wanted to be free to do my job without people thinking I was available, and I didn't want to have to keep telling everyone I wasn't. So I got the idea to move my ring over…To let them know I was taken," Dean finished in a quiet voice.

And here it was, the moment that would change everything. Sam steadied his voice before he spoke.

"Did you mean it, Dean? Are you taken?"

Dean looked up and nodded slowly, his gaze faltering for a moment.

"If you want me I'm yours, Sammy."

It was ridiculous that Sam should feel like crying after hearing that softly uttered sentence yet he found himself biting his lip to keep the tears at bay and he settled for nodding.

Dean ducked his head as he reached up to scratch his fingers through his hair, suddenly shy and unaccountably nervous. He was a completely badass hunter, sure, but launch him into an emotional situation and he was out of his element. The one thing he held on to was the belief that it was beyond important that he get this right.

He chanced a quick glance at Sam through his lashes and gave him a quick smile. Sam had managed to get a grip on his emotions and just looked his fill at Dean.

His brother.

His best friend.

His _boyfriend._

Suddenly Sam was hit with the thrill of what it all meant and it raced up and down his spine. Dean blinked hard when he saw the way Sam's eyes were fixed on him. He was nodding to himself as he began to speak.

"I can't wait to learn every little thing that gets you off," Sam intoned in a voice laced with a dark promise reflected in his gaze. "Every single kink you have, every turn on in your book."

_What the hell?_ Dean actually turned in a circle, looking around in confusion.

Wasn't Sam always telling Dean that he thought too much with his downstairs brain? And now here Sammy apparently was shutting off the 'ol upstairs brain. Dean had to physically force himself not to take a step back when Sam set that heated glance on a slow, slow path over his body.

"I hate to interrupt your delusions of grandeur over there but the same goes for you, you know," Dean told him in an attempt to bring Sam's focus back. "We do this I am going to know every single button to push."

But if anything Sam's gaze heated more.

"Oh I know," Sam assured him. "It's one of the things I'm looking forward to the most, actually."

And now Dean's gaze began to simmer.

"Really, Sammy? You like the idea of me knowing exactly what to do to turn your crank? That I'll get so good at getting you off that I can do it wherever, whenever I want and you'll happily go with it?"

Sam bit his lip and ducked his head for a moment. Dean was worried until he saw Sam's smile.

"Actually, Dean…While you were gone I decided to try and work on my powers, get to the point where I'm not controlled by the visions but rather I'm controlling them, you know?"

Dean nodded, a little uncertain why they were suddenly switching topics like this.

"And I've gotten pretty good, I'll show you later but there's been sort of a development."

Dean frowned slightly.

"What kind of development, Sammy?"

"I can sort of project my thoughts to people," Sam admitted with a blush. "I did it accidentally once and it freaked me out. Luckily it was something I could play off and I've been really vigilant about not doing it but I want to, if that's okay."

Dean's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"You mean like during a fight? Project something that will distract a demon enough to allow it to be killed?"

Sam smiled and shook his head.

"No. Well actually yes, but that's not what I meant," he took a deep breath and when he looked up Dean was surprised to see that same heat from before back in his gaze. "I want to show you the incubi dream, Dean."

* * *

End of chapter fifteen


	16. Sixteen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (16/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author Notes: Greetings and salutations, one and all. And Happy Mother's Day to any who happen upon this fic today. Continued gratitude goes out to everyone who reads and reviews. In response to lil trucker…I'm happy you appear to be enjoying this! In response to Liquorish…first off your user name made me crack up. Secondly, thank you for taking the time to write. I hope I have appeased your sense of urgency? lol

On with the chapter…

* * *

Now it all made sense and Dean smiled, moving toward Sam with a predatory grace that made Sam's head spin.

"When you first told me about the dream you complained that I wouldn't kiss you," Dean said with a grin and Sam shook his head in confusion but smiled back.

"I did?"

Dean nodded.

"When we toasted the end of the hunt, remember?"

Sam shook his head. He remembered thinking about the dream and now that Dean mentioned it he had flashes of talking but he didn't know what he'd said.

"I wanted to ask you more about the dream but you fell asleep just as it was getting interesting," Dean told him and Sam couldn't tell if he was teasing or not.

"So can I show you, instead?" Sam asked, smiling in invitation. Dean stopped in front of Sam and, standing toe to toe, he grew serious for a moment.

"This is it, Sammy. We commit to this now then that's it, game over. There's no backing out. It's just us, no room for anyone else."

Sam nodded.

"Already don't want anyone else, just you."

Dean gave Sam a delighted smile as he reached up and pulled Sam toward him and kissed him without hesitation.

Which is exactly what Sam needed to happen for this to become real. He didn't want Dean pausing, second-guessing, or—and this was a first—talking any more about whether or not he wanted to be with Sam.

He wanted Dean to do what Dean did best—take action. He wanted Dean to show him that he wanted to commit…in fact he hadn't become aware of just how much he needed this from Dean until he got it.

He let everything else go save for the feel of Dean…Dean's hands cupping his jaw, gently tilting his head so his lips lined up with Dean's the way he wanted, Dean's lips, the soft skin rubbing against his own. His own hands hung by his side for a moment before he remembered that he could touch Dean, too, and so he moved them to Dean's hips and tangled his fingers in Dean's belt loops—which made Dean grin for a moment before they both went back to focusing on the kiss.

Sam wasn't in the habit of comparing his significant others as he fully believed that every person he had been with led him to who he was supposed to be with next, but if he were to compare them then he'd be hard pressed to find someone whose kiss could top Dean's.

It wasn't a kiss designed to boil his blood, make him hard and desperate to get down and dirty. It wasn't a _wantneednow_ kiss, something to occupy their mouths while their hands busied themselves getting each other naked.

It was so much more.

Dean kissed him to claim him, to connect with him and to cement their bond. His kiss was gentle yet thorough, and it was slow and unhurried, saying without words that they had all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, in fact, to do this and Dean refused to be rushed.

Sam savored the sensations the kiss invoked, wanting to hold on to the feelings so that in the years to come when things got rough he could look back and remember just how good they could be.

When Dean made to pull back from the kiss Sam didn't let him go, using the leverage on his hips to pull Dean even closer. Dean went without hesitation and let Sam take the lead for some of the most wonderful minutes of Sam's life. Finally they needed to breathe properly but Dean didn't move away.

"Maybe I wanted to make sure we were both fully conscious for that," Dean said in a husky voice against Sam's lips.

"More," Sam breathed out and Dean smiled even as he complied. They traded soft, slow, deep kisses until they both really needed to start taking actual breaths and to that end Dean leaned back, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"Been thinking about this, _goddamn_, for so long," he paused and grasped Sam's chin in his hand, bringing their gazes level. "You belong to me now, Sammy."

Instead of debating the point Dean was surprised to see Sam nod.

"I've always belonged to you, in one way or another. This is just one more way that's true."

And it was either cry or kiss the life out of Sam after that and unsurprisingly Dean chose to suck Sam's lower lip into his mouth.

Now _this_ kiss? This was a deliciously hungry kiss. Dean tugged on Sam's lip with his teeth, nipping it and soothing the bite with his tongue. Sam gasped at the sensation, which paved the way for Dean to lick into Sam's mouth. It was all Sam could do to hold on as Dean plundered his mouth, and when he groaned Dean would have laughed except he was too busy trying to lick the last traces of—what was this taste?—from Sam's teeth.

When it hit him Dean was surprised enough to break the kiss.

"You've been eating peanut M&M's?" Dean gaped, for it was common knowledge that Sam preferred the almond kind. He was unexpectedly touched that Sam would do something that obviously reminded him of Dean.

Sam could only nod at first, wondering how he'd managed to go so long without the firsthand knowledge of what an amazing kisser Dean was. And how the hell did anyone who ever got to experience this let Dean go afterwards? Even if all they ever did was this Sam was pretty sure he would die with a smile on his face.

"I want—" Sam managed to say before he gave in to the temptation to kiss Dean again. After a long minute Dean smiled and pulled back far enough to meet Sam's gaze.

"What do you want, Sam?"

Sam was struck with déjà vu—that was the same thing he had said to Dean—and he decided that now was as good a time as any to show Dean the dream.

"Can I try and show you the dream?" he asked as he tried to regain his breath.

Dean nodded and stepped back a step, smiling when Sam kept their bodies in contact.

"How do you want to do this?"

Sam looked around and his eyes finally landed on the bed.

"I think it'd be easiest if I was lying down," he said, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Bed, huh?" Dean said and when Sam met Dean's eyes he smiled at the playful leer Dean was giving him. He shook his head and chuckled as he made his way to his bed and lay down.

"You got a problem with that?" Sam teased as he scooted over so Dean could lie next to him.

"Sammy I think we both know I'm the last person to have problems with that."

Sam closed his eyes and focused on the breathing exercises he had been engaging in to center himself before attempting to access his powers. It took him longer than it normally would since his senses were completely tuned in to Dean for the most part.

Deciding not to fight the urge to focus on his brother since it would only delay the dream Sam allowed himself to center on the sound of Dean breathing next to him and the slight rustle of the covers as he shifted slightly. That sound made him rethink the point where he was going to start showing Dean the dream.

Dean took the time while Sam was preparing himself to just relish in being close to Sam once more. Now that they had committed to each other Dean grinned as he realized that this would be the first of countless nights that they laid down next to the other, although hopefully in the future there would be less calm breathing and silence and more panting and interesting noises.

He was jarred for a moment when he realized that the mental image he had conjured up of the two of them on the bed had been replaced by an image…of the two of them on the bed.

And so it began.

* * *

End of Chapter Sixteen


	17. Seventeen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (17/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author Notes: Hello out there! We're nearing the end, gang…only two chapters to go. But then I can focus on the smutty side stories so that's a good thing. Thank you from the deepest part of my heart for reading and reviewing. I am honored.

dani: Hey there! Thank you! I really am grateful for the nice things you had to say about the story. It means a lot that you took the time to write.

Shiba: Well that is quite a compliment! I think Dean is hilarious and so your comments made me feel especially waffy, thank you thank you thank you!

Liquorish: Thank you for the clarification, lol. Yes, cliff hangers are generally one of Satan's more effective creations, I'll give you that. Your kind words tickled me pink, I tell ya! Thank you for making the effort to write!

On with the chapter…

* * *

Dean watched Sam inch back until he was flush against DreamDean's side, and he grinned when Sam burrowed into DreamDean with a happy snuffle. He had known Sammy was a cuddler long before this damning evidence presented itself. He saw himself press a kiss on the back of his neck and whisper into his skin.

"Perfect, Sam."

The next thing he was aware of was Sam reading. Looking closer he saw that it was The Odyssey, which he knew was Sam's favorite book. He could tell Sam wasn't paying attention as a group of women and men appeared in the bleachers and positioned themselves near Sam. A teenager made her way over and Dean saw that it was Cindy Bar-something, or maybe Beer-something?

Banging body but a complete bitch. Dean felt annoyance fill him when he remembered the whole fiasco, and how brokenhearted Sam had been by it. He still maintained that he should have been able to beat her up, rules about not fighting with chicks be damned.

Dean observed Sam's reaction to Cindy with amusement, happy to see the 'what a bitch' flit across his features without any attempt to shield it. He noted the confusion as Sam finally noticed the other people and then came the part where Sam realized that DreamDean was there, too. Dean watched as Sam's eyes lit up and following his eye line he saw himself playing soccer.

Dean blushed when he saw Sam nod in response to Cindy's query as to whether or not Dean was Sam's boyfriend and his ego got a nice little boost when all the people surrounding them smiled and essentially gave Sam the thumbs-up on Dean. He watched himself materialize in front of Sam and saw the barely checked lust on his own features as he got Sam's attention.

Sam's gaze snapped up at the sound of Dean's voice. Dean became aware of everyone moving away as Sam's focus completely filtered out everything but DreamDean. He followed Sam's gaze as it drifted over DreamDean and he smiled at how Sam was obviously checking DreamDean out and then he laughed as he saw that he had caught Sam at it.

"There's no room for me, Sam," he watched himself say as he turned away and he could see the gleam in his eyes as Sam fell for the bait and begged him not to go.

His amazement matched Sam's as he watched himself settle down and curl up with Sam as if it were an everyday occurrence. His gaze became misty for a moment as he saw how much the act had affected Sam. His heart swelled with affection as he too lost track of the moments Sam and he spent in companionable silence.

When his alter-ego nudged Sam back into awareness he almost couldn't believe that he had passed on the opportunity to tease Sam but he clearly read the ulterior motive in his own gaze, even if Sam was oblivious. His blood heated as he took in Sam's reaction to DreamDean's teeth on his skin and he was as disoriented as Sam had been when the dream suddenly shifted to the hotel room.

He wondered what Sam was waiting for when the bathroom door opened and he noted Sam's obvious response to his presence as well as his own no-longer-concealed desire for Sam. If he weren't reasonably sure where this was headed he would have laughed at Sam's dismay when DreamDean announced he was leaving.

As it was he was surprised that he had made it so easy for Sam. He hadn't even made Sam confess he wanted DreamDean to stay, he simply asked him. He did laugh when Sam found his voice and told DreamDean he would be more fun than his date. Dean had been hoping that this dream was heading toward some kind of sexual encounter and it looked like it was.

And then "Pour Some Sugar on Me" came on and Dean's own memory suddenly filled with the upcoming imagery and he shuddered at the hunger in Sam's gaze when his brother reached out and grabbed the belt, using it as a makeshift leash to pull DreamDean over.

It was ridiculously hot to see himself give Sam a hickey, and even more so to see how close Sam was to coming just from that act…not that Dean didn't figure he himself would be just as close once he actually got to do it in real life.

But then DreamDean stopped kissing Sam's neck and his confusion matched Sam's until he heard what he said and realized that he was talking about incubi in general, a fact he made note of to write down later.

His pulse raced as he noted Sam's reaction to his words and he saw that his brother had begun to make the switch from just wanting to get off to wanting to get DreamDean off. The wrestling move Sam pulled wasn't particularly impressive, despite the obvious amazement his features were displaying and Dean again saw that he was speaking for incubi in general. Sam's ability to turn the tables and start to control this whole thing was apparently not something that happened to incubi, and he made another note of it.

Also—Sam taking control? Incredibly hot. Far hotter than Dean would have ever imagined, actually. He resolved to reenact this entire scenario in detail once he was released from this dream.

Except for the part where he began to babble like an idiot, practically begging Sam to do whatever he wanted. _That_ part needed to be rewritten.

Dean observed in fascination how pressing the mark on Sam's neck completely stripped Sam of any control he had. Not that he wasn't vain enough to think he was hot enough to cause such a response but he could tell that it was an incubi thing, especially since he could see that he was taking great care to keep himself in contact with the mark.

"Open up, Sam," he saw himself whisper and when Sam opened his mouth and began to suck on DreamDean's fingers Dean groaned in tandem with his dream-self.

_Goddamn_ that was hot.

"Damn," DreamDean murmured, "I bet you are just a fantastic cocksucker, aren't you? Mmm if I didn't need to fuck you I'd consider finding out." He leaned up and tugged on Sam's earlobe with his teeth for a moment before whispering in his ear. "Maybe if you're good I'll let you suck me hard again. What do you think, Sam? Can you be good for me?"

When Sam nodded and whimpered that was all it took to get Dean beyond ready to fuck Sam into the nearest flat surface. He was a complete and absolute sucker for Sam needing him, but to hear such a goddamn needy sound coming from him was one of the biggest turn-ons he could imagine. He had the feeling that as soon as Sam found out how much begging turned him on he'd make sure Dean saw stars every time.

Then _whoa_…suddenly they were both naked and Dean had to blink and pause for a second, the realization jarring him for a moment.

As he watched himself finger-fuck Sam into mindlessness he was amazed that he hadn't snapped out of the dream by climaxing himself into a coma. He had to grin when he watched Sam pout around his fingers as DreamDean refused to let him jerk himself off.

And wow did DreamDean have a penchant for dirty talk! Holy crap! He was taken aback by some of the stuff coming out of his mouth, and he wondered if it was weird that he was turning himself on.

But when DreamDean began to move his hips in gentle teasing thrusts against Sam's, backing away and denying Sam any friction Dean wanted to go smack himself until he heard what he was saying.

"You want this? You want me fucking you open? You want to come, want to paint me with it?"

Sam moaned and DreamDean nodded against his neck. _Finally,_ Dean thought.

But then Dean saw what Sam had meant when he told him that his dream-self told him to take it.

"Then wake up and take it, Sam. Open your eyes and fuck yourself on my cock. Wake up and untie me and I will pound you through the mattress, I promise you. I know you want it, Sam. So take it."

"Wait…that means I'm asleep," Sam said and Dean watched as he pulled his doppelganger's fingers out of his mouth. "That means this isn't real."

Dean thought that was it and that he was going to suddenly see Sam, the real Sam, in front of him. But he was surprised when he found himself bearing witness to what was obviously Sam's memory of waking up.

"Oh goddamn, Dean, I am seriously going to kill you," Sam moaned even as he arched into the touch. Dean could only stare in fascination as Sam lost his will to resist. When Sam reached back and grabbed him Dean understood that Sam was showing him that he wanted Dean even when he snapped out of the dream.

And speaking of snapping out of it suddenly Dean found himself staring up at the bedroom ceiling.

"Whoa," he whispered, needing a second to get his bearings back. After a moment he turned to look at Sam with a smile that quickly faded as he took in Sam's appearance.

* * *

End of Chapter Seventeen


	18. Eighteen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (18/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Author's Notes: Well gang we're so close to the end I can almost taste it! It tastes just like the cookies the Dark Side gives me when I put up cliffhangers, incidentally. Thank you so so so much to those of you who have made it this far. I hope the journey has felt worthwhile to you all.

lil trucker—As always thanks for writing. We'll see if Sammy's all messed up here. Hope to keep you interested through the end.

Liquorish—Yes, I apparently rule the Land of Cliffhangers. I am happy to report that I am a benevolent dictator, so that's got to count for something, right? Thanks for the comments, especially about Dean. You made me laugh!

Kristy—Thank you and double thank you! Lol I appreciate you taking the time to write, as well as the nice things you said!

On with the chapter…

* * *

Sam was lying on the bed and he had one arm thrown across his eyes, almost as if he was trying to block the light out. It was a controlled version of what Dean was familiar with seeing when Sam was having a vision.

"Sammy?" he called out in a gentle voice, not wanting to aggravate his brother if he were in pain.

"Maybe I shouldn't have shown you the dream," Sam whispered and Dean frowned, immediately thinking the worst.

Was this the first time he'd replayed the incubus dream and during it did he see something that bothered him? Was Sam having second thoughts? Did he not want Dean anymore?

"I mean, I don't want you to think I'm trying to push you into anything," Sam continued, unaware of Dean's mental anguish.

Dean shook his head and allowed a small grin. If he was confused then chances were pretty good whatever Sam was talking about had nothing to do with anything Dean could think up.

"Push me into what, Sam?"

Sam finally lowered his arm to look at Dean and he blushed when Dean quirked an eyebrow.

"Getting physical," he admitted, "I mean we just decided that we're going to have a relationship and not ten minutes later I'm showing you some sex dream I had."

"That's because you're an awesome brother," Dean told him with a cheeky grin.

"Glad you're finally realizing that," Sam said with an eye roll and a smile he couldn't hide, "But seriously, Dean. We have the rest of our lives and I don't want to rush anything with you."

"It was pretty tame as far as actual sex stuff goes," Dean said and grinned when Sam blushed and looked away.

"Yeah, I know," Sam told him in a low voice and Dean could tell that Sam thought he was disappointed and he shook his head. Sometimes his brother could be so dense. He reached out and cradled Sam's face in his hands, tilting his chin up until Sam braved a glance at Dean's face.

"Doesn't mean it wasn't fucking hot as hell, Sammy," he assured him and he could see the shame in Sam's eyes disappear.

"You think so?" Sam asked and upon looking at the heat in Dean's gaze he found himself going red from an altogether different sensation.

"Mmm-hmm, I do," Dean answered, "I thought for sure I was going to ruin your attempt to show me the whole thing by coming in my pants like I was twelve or something."

Sam laughed and reached his hand up to Dean's, stroking his wrist with his thumb.

"You and me both," he assured him.

"You want to make sure we don't rush into anything? That's fine by me, Sam," Dean told him. "We can move on to what you obviously want to do instead."

Sam pursed his lips and thought for a moment…did he imply he wanted to do something else? He didn't think he had but he decided to ask.

"And what's that, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes, though the effect was ruined by the smile he couldn't erase from his face. He gestured Sam to him with an overly dramatic sigh. Sam started to move toward him even as his brow furrowed.

"What is it, Dean?"

"You act like I don't know what you want, Sammy," Dean told him with an amused grin and a shake of his head. He spread his arms out and gestured to himself. "Here I am."

Sam smiled and ducked his head for a moment, figuring that anything he was actually thinking of was a girly enough move that there was no way it was what Dean was referencing.

"What is it exactly you think I want from you, Dean?"

Dean laughed.

"Like you don't want to cuddle me, bitch."

Sam's eyes popped and he blushed while Dean laughed again, and the sound made Sam's smile still bigger even as the warmth infused his chest. Admittedly Sam had thought about it once he relived the dream again but he didn't think Dean was going to be on board with it quite so readily.

"Can I, Dean?" Sam asked, holding his breath at the thought that Dean was merely teasing him and had no intentions of allowing it.

Dean gave a long-suffering sigh as his answer but since he was still smiling Sam took that to mean yes. So not being one to pass up the golden opportunity to engage in the act that had been haunting him since it happened all those months ago Sam quickly sat up and started to move the pillows so he could lay back and comfortably support himself and Dean.

Dean smiled as he watched Sam maneuver everything, including his own body, until it was apparently positioned perfectly. He stood up to allow Sam to make the final adjustments and once Sam had everything arranged to his satisfaction he moved his legs apart and looked up at Dean with a smile.

Dean got back on the bed and twisted himself around and over Sam until he was situated and then he leaned back and let himself relax onto Sam's chest. And _oh yeah_, this was good. He could already see endless days spent just like this—watching tv, reading, or just (and really, if it wasn't so good he'd never think this) talking.

Just when he thought he could add sleeping to the list Sam tensed beneath him for a moment. Dean's fingers, which had been idly combing through the ends of Sam's hair, stilled.

"What is it, Sam? And if you say anything about me being heavy I'll kick your ass."

Sam laughed and Dean could feel the vibrations rumble through him.

"Comfy then, are we?" Sam teased as he squeezed Dean playfully around the middle. "And no…I don't find you fat at all."

"So?" Dean let the vowel draw out the word into a full sentence of its own.

Sam hesitated for the barest of moments but seemed to find the fact that Dean couldn't see his face a boon to his confidence.

"You know the incubi dream?" he started and Dean nodded. "Well I was just wondering if you had anything like that happen to you?"

Dean frowned. Did Sam really think Dean would have gone through something like that and not told Sam about it?

"What do you mean, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged before he cleared his throat.

"I was just curious about whether or not you'd had any dreams, you know, like that," he stated in what he hoped was as casual a tone of voice as possible.

But of course knowing Sam as well as he did meant that the tone of voice did not fool Dean one bit. And suddenly it made sense, especially why Sam had put a hold on any more physical contact—well that of a more sexual nature, anyway.

He was worried that Dean didn't want him.

Dean gently extricated himself, ignoring Sam's near whine of protest and turned himself over so he was lying on top of his brother. Sam grinned and let his hands settle on Dean's hips while Dean moved his hand down from Sam's hair and stroked Sam's neck with his fingers, making sure to maintain eye contact.

"That first night, after we decided we were going to separate?" he began, "I had a dream about giving you that hickey."

"You did?" Sam asked and Dean could hear how pleased he was by the admission. "And when I was gone I'd dream about kissing you," he continued, voice gone low as he remembered some of the more carnal aspects of the dreams he'd had.

"Just kissing me?" Sam half asked, half teased.

Dean shrugged, gaze dropping to Sam's lips.

"Well I had to start somewhere before I would get to the part where I'd bend you over the Impala's trunk or you'd blow me on the hood," he stated nonchalantly and smirked when Sam's breath hitched and his hips twitched.

"You would let me defile your baby like that?" Sam asked and although Dean was sure Sam meant for it to be taunting it came out as more of a breathless question.

"You're not just anyone, Sam," he told him before he thought about how it would sound.

As soon as he processed what he'd said he worried for a moment that Sam would tease him for such a girly sentiment. But he was instead rewarded with Sam damn near squeezing the life out of him as he hugged Dean as tight as he could, rolling them over so he could grip Dean even more firmly.

"You think the back seat's big enough for the two of us?" Sam finally choked out, and even though Dean knew he was fighting back tears he let him get away with it.

"Mmm, guess we'll have to test that theory sometime, huh?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, burying his face in Dean's neck.

* * *

End of Chapter Eighteen


	19. Nineteen of Nineteen

**Title:** The Brothers Winchester Code (19/19)

**Rating:** Adult  
**Pairing/Characters:** Eventual Dean/Sam  
**Notes/Disclaimers/Spoilers: Spoilers through 02x10, "Hunted." **I don't own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; this is strictly a fan piece.

**Summary: **After the events of Hunted, Sam finally figures out what to tell Dean. But what he says puts the brothers on a road they never contemplated.

Stuff at the end, for now let's get on with the chapter, shall we?

* * *

They laid there for endless minutes with Dean rubbing Sam's back and Sam clenching Dean's shirt in one fist, as if afraid his brother would leave. Dean decided that if they weren't going to be having sex they should probably move on to the other aspects of their new relationship that needed to be worked out.

Just when Dean was about to breach the topic of hunting with Sam—who he felt confident had already worked out some schedule for them based on the cosine of some abstract angle multiplied by a differential of the moon's phases or some other equation that Dean didn't need to know—he realized that Sammy was falling asleep.

Dean could feel Sam's weight settle more, and his breathing began to deepen while his grip on Dean's shirt slackened.

"I'm sleepy, Dean," Sam suddenly confessed and Dean rolled his eyes even as he patted Sam's arm affectionately.

"Yeah I kinda sensed that," he said, "you wanna take a nap?"

"No," Sam decided and his grip on Dean re-tightened.

"What if I take one too?" Dean proposed and Sam hesitated for a minute before nodding and letting Dean up so he could take off his jacket, shirt and pants. Dean caught Sam watching him and he winked as he carried his clothes over to the dresser.

Sam quickly shed his clothes and after settling himself under the covers he began to twist the edge of the blanket in his hands. He waited until Dean had come back over and was about ready to climb into his own bed before speaking.

"Uh, Dean?"

Thinking Sam had already dropped off Dean was surprised to hear his voice. He turned to his brother.

"What is it, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder and Dean watched in amusement as Sam colored red right before his eyes.

"It's just, you didn't kiss me goodnight," Sam stated and Dean chuckled.

"Sorry, Sammy. Didn't know you wanted me to."

Sam nodded.

"It's okay, but I do…want you to."

Dean crossed the space between their beds and leaned down, but when he saw Sam's lips begin to purse he decided to tease Sam so he ignored the hint and kissed Sam's forehead instead. He held back a laugh at the expression on Sam's face as he stood back up.

"Night, Sammy," he said and turned around before Sam could catch on to what he was doing. Sam's hand wrapped around his wrist before he had managed to take a single step. He willed his expression to remain innocent as he turned back.

"What's up?" he asked and Sam scrutinized his expression for about one full second before he caught on to what Dean was doing. He rolled his eyes and smiled at Dean.

"That's not where I wanted you to kiss me, Dean."

"Oh?" Dean asked and he wasn't sure there was a soul alive who would buy his innocent act at this point but it didn't keep him from trying.

"I wanted you to kiss me lower than that," Sam told him and Dean grinned.

Without a word he bent back over Sam and this time kissed each of his closed eyes which made Sam honest-to-god giggle. Dean smiled as he stood back up but made no move to return to his bed. Sam shook his head and tugged on Dean's arm.

"Try again," he suggested as he tried to quiet his giggles. Dean sat down, curved his body over Sam's and began to drop soft little kisses all over his face, everywhere but his mouth. Sam cracked up, his hands moving to the sides of Dean's face as he held on and tried to breathe through his laughter.

"Dean," he wheezed out, "Kiss my lips you jerk."

Dean leaned back, faux surprise oozing out of his features.

"Oh! Is _that_ what you wanted?" he asked Sam. "Why didn't you say so?"

And then he moved back down and Sam's hands slipped from his face to his shoulders as he kissed Sam's lips softly. He kept this next round of kisses gentle and chaste as Sam's laughter finally quieted and he settled beneath Dean.

Just when Dean was about to get up Sam suddenly opened his mouth and tugged on Dean's lower lip with his teeth, nipping it and soothing the bite with his tongue. Dean gasped at the sensation, which allowed Sam to lick into Dean's mouth. It mimicked the kiss Dean had given Sam earlier and all Dean could do was hold on as Sam took control. Sam's hands traveled to Dean's jaw as he deepened the kiss, wanting Dean closer.

Without breaking the kiss Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and tugged him up so that Dean could swing his leg over Sam's lap before he resettled them and allowed Sam to draw them both back down to the bed. Even through the blankets Dean could feel how hard Sam already was and he wanted to reach down and rip the covers away but then he remembered that Sam wanted to keep things slow.

So even though he really yearned to follow Sam's lead here and move things forward he decided that he needed to be the one who put space between them, since Sam had apparently forgotten his whole urge to progress slowly.

Just as he made the decision Sam's hands began to fight with the blankets and Dean pulled away. Sam clung to him as Dean stood up and he only let go when he realized that Dean was out of bed.

"I need to go get the journal," Dean announced, having already decided that if he wasn't going to be putting the moves on Sam he'd tease him instead.

Sam blinked, sure he had heard that wrong.

"What?" he asked as he swung his legs over the side and sat up.

"Yeah, I learned some interesting stuff about incubi during your dream. Like for instance they don't usually bother seducing their victim. And that once they have a victim in their thrall it's apparently hard for their victim to be able to gain control back."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of hard, Dean," he announced with a pointed glance downwards at himself.

"Yes?"

Sam's eyes bugged out.

"Are you kidding me with this? You act like I'm the only one in this condition, Dean," he said as he gestured at his brother's tented boxers.

Dean took in Sam's frustrated appearance and wavered for a minute before he finally took pity on his brother.

"Sorry, Sammy, but we're supposed to be going slow and that," he pointed at the bed, "was not headed towards slow. So I thought we should stop before we did something you'd regret doing later."

"I'm pretty sure the only thing I'm going to regret later is letting you out of bed at all," Sam assured him and Dean smiled before moving in to give Sam a kiss which he quickly pulled back from. Sam clenched his hands into fists and pouted up at Dean.

"Dean," he pleaded, "Oh goddamn I should have pegged you for a cocktease, I really—" he broke off to groan and Dean drank in the sound with his lips.

This time Sam latched on to Dean and dragged him down until Dean was straddling Sam's lap.

"Sammy, Sammy," Dean murmured between kisses, "I'm not trying to be a tease, really."

Sam broke off the kiss and fixed him with a look and Dean gave him a cheeky grin.

"Okay, it's partly that but at the most ten percent. It's mostly about helping you do what you want, putting your needs first. Isn't that what you want me to do?"

Sam adamantly shook his head.

"No."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at Sam who blushed under the scrutiny.

"Sorry. I appreciate what you're saying, Dean, I really do. So going along with that here is what I want you to do. I want you to trust me to have a limit in place as to how far I'm ready for us to go."

Dean gave him a long searching look before he nodded.

"You know something? When we were talking about the dream you told me that I wouldn't let you come. You seemed very irritated with me, Sammy," Dean said with a soft smile. "I was thinking I should make it up to you."

Sam was nodding before Dean stopped speaking.

"I think you should, too."

Dean chuckled before he moved to whisper along Sam's jaw, traveling up to his ear as he spoke.

"What would make you forgive me, Sammy? What can I do to help you excuse the fact that I had you in my arms, warm and willing, and I denied you the orgasm I promised?"

Sam got even harder and the hands that had already been tight on Dean's hips strengthened their grip as he bucked up against Dean.

"What would absolve me from the sin of keeping you hard for me, of commanding you not to touch yourself, not to jerk off to the promise in my voice as I used my touch to set you on fire?"

Sam moaned and thrust his hips up as he tilted his head to capture Dean's mouth with his own. He fell back on the bed and cupped Dean's ass and ground his hips up, the friction between their erections sparking new sensations.

"Fuck, Dean," he murmured and Dean could feel a shudder run through his body. "Just touch me."

"At some point I'm going to make you come without ever touching your cock…" Dean intoned in a low voice. "But not today. Right now I want you to come from the feel of my hands on you."

"Either you do it or I will," Sam said in a shaky voice and Dean grinned.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"Come on, Dean," Sam whined. "What, you want me to beg or something?"

He was going to chuckle but then he saw the heat spark in Dean's gaze and he knew that he had stumbled on to one of Dean's kinks.

"You do," he breathed out and his body stilled at the revelation. "You want me to beg, don't you?"

Not wanting to see what he could only assume would be mockery Dean dropped his forehead to Sam's collarbone and Sam turned his head so he could whisper.

"Please, Dean. Please," he begged, taking Dean's earlobe in his teeth and giving it a gentle bite. "I want you to make me come, Dean."

Dean trembled as Sam's words hit home.

"Please," Sam murmured softly, aware that for all that he was begging, he was the one with the power here…for the moment. He remembered how it had felt to crack Dean's control in their dream, and part of him sang out in joy that he was getting to do this with Dean for real.

"Please," Sam repeated, allowing his hips to rock gently up into Dean's, getting harder than he had thought he could when Dean suddenly pressed back down. He looked up into Dean's eyes and saw the lust painted across his features.

"Please," Sam begged, feeling the balance of power shift back to Dean. He was so close to coming...he could only hope that Dean was, too, and that he wasn't in the mood to draw this out too much longer.

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean groaned. He placed his hand on Sam's chest and held his brother's gaze as he allowed his palm to descend. Sam's breathing hitched and became shallow but he gave no indication that he was anything but on board with what was happening.

"_Yes_," he hissed out when Dean reached into his boxers and closed his hand around his cock. Dean gave him a moment to compose himself before he started to stroke, and Sam pushed his waistband down so there was more room to maneuver.

"God, Dean," Sam breathed out and his eyes fluttered closed.

His hips arched and then Sam was coming between them and Dean was frozen at the knowledge that Sam was coming because of him, and his heart surged at the thought that he would spend the rest of his life seeing this look—this gorgeous, wondrous, striking look—directed at him and him alone.

When Sam opened his eyes they were filled with so much love that Dean thought he would burst. He bent down and kissed Sam gently, letting his brother stay connected to him as he came down from his climax.

"What is it, Dean?" he asked when Dean sat back. Dean was pleased to see he didn't seem to be worried that Dean was upset with him.

"The way you look when you come, Sammy…" he paused, unsure what word to use. "It's…stunning."

Sam flushed even more crimson than he already was but he grinned at Dean.

"Yeah? Well you'd better get used to it 'cause you're going to be seeing it a lot more if I have anything to say about it."

When Dean chuckled and went to push himself off Sam his brother made a noise of protest.

"I'm just going to get a towel to clean you up, that's all," Dean assured him but Sam shook his head and put his hand between them so he could palm Dean through his boxers.

"Not yet. I need to learn how to touch you," he told him as Dean gasped and moved into the touch. "Wouldn't be fair if you didn't get to come, too, now would it?"

"I thought—" Dean began and broke off when Sam worked his hand into his boxers, "I thought it was…_oh god_…was supposed to be…_mmm_…me saying sorry?"

"This can be me saying I forgive you," Sam teased and then it was Dean's turn to fall into the abyss. Sam coaxed him down so he was lying on his chest and he kissed Dean's temple and ran his free hand up and down his spine, reveling in the closeness.

After a few minutes Dean decided they needed to clean up. So they willed themselves out of Sam's bed and they took sink baths and replaced their boxers before moving into Dean's bed, where Sam was quick to cuddle his brother.

"Kisses, Dean?" Sam asked through a yawn and Dean blinked his eyes open and tilted his face down so he could pepper soft kisses all over Sam's face, ending with a tender kiss on Sam's lips.

When he pulled up Sam smiled and squeezed Dean.

"I am so lucky," he murmured as he burrowed simultaneously into the pillow and Dean's side.

"You and me both," Dean replied in a drowsy voice as he closed his eyes. They fell asleep to the sounds of _together_.

* * *

The End

* * *

Snippet from the first side story in The Brothers Winchester Code 'Verse:

_"What about when I start to beg, Dean?" Sam leaned forward to lick at Dean's chest, murmuring against his skin. He smiled when Dean's hips twitched beneath him. "Do you think you'll be able to hold out when I'm begging you to fuck me? When I'm telling you how much I need to feel you, how much I want your hands on me?"_

_"That's playing dirty, Sam," Dean scolded with a grin. One of Dean's more obvious kinks was getting Sam to beg. Sam shrugged._

Author's Note: Thank you. What more can I say? I have truly been blessed to receive such wonderful support throughout this story. Your kind words have meant the world to me.

lil trucker: Thank you! I'm so glad you've stuck with me! Hope this chapter delivers!

Michelle: I've appreciated every review you've given me, this last one being no exception. I will try to post the next story quickly but I should try and finish at least one of my wip's before I do so, don't you think? Maybe? Anyhoo thank you!

Liquorish: I don't think that I made it a cliffhanger but go ahead and haunt my s if you must. It's so funny because I have Dean thinking that exact same phrase in a new story I'm working on. Sorry about the length, hopefully you'll like this chapter better. Thank you for always making me smile whenever I see your name in my inbox.

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